The Night Grinned Viciously Back
by Terra Khushrenada
Summary: How about this for a short summery: Will not be publishing here any longer. Look it up on Deviant Art.
1. Day In the Life Part 1

**First... **A Poetic Explanation of the Title...

Relena was wearing a blue and white checker dress as she skipped through the grassy expanse in her dream,

Her little dog Heero bounding along beside her.

She stopped to wonder at the three brilliant moons that hung in the starry sky,

"Is world peace really possible?" she asked as she crouched to scratch Heero behind his ear.

"If you wonder that, perhaps you should go ask the King of Fate yourself!" she turned to see a half-faced clown balancing upon a large mushroom that was growing near by.

"The King of Fate? Do you know how to find him?"

"Not a clue! I'm just a fool."

"I do! I do!" said an old leather shoe with braided laces.

So Relena, Heero and the clown all followed the shoe down a rose lined path and up a mountain side.

Along the way a mechanical peacock and a black & white lynx with brilliant gold eyes joined them on their way,

Interested in what the King of Fate would say...

There he stood like a statue since time immortal upon the mountain's rocky peak: the body of a lion with feet and tail of a mighty dragon,

His torso that of a man's, bare chested and muscled, and upon his shoulders sat a head with five faces;

Two of Earth and much the same and sharing one side; one old and one young,

One of Heaven with blond hair framing the ice blue eyes radiating purity and light,

One of Space with black hair to match it's ebony eyes laughing with hope and freedom,

...The last face of Night, colorless and shrouded with all the darkness of the world's soul... faced away from her to stare out into a place only it could see.

"Oh King of Fate, Please tell me... is peace real? Can equality be attained by all people of the Earth Sphere?"

The King's first two faces lifted to meet her eye and reply,

"If men have dreams they keep in their souls... and the will to defend their right to them..."

The face of Space now spoke it's turn,

"If men keep hope and walk freely as they would please..."

The face of Heaven turned and continue in it's own low-deep tone,

"If men give themselves to the greater good and see to the dreams of others..."

All four voices now spoke,

"...Peace is possible for anyone of the Earth Sphere. But...

...there is only one peace of which all can share equally..."

The final face...the face of Night...now turned to face Relena and her little Gundam Pilot entourage.

As her eyes began to peer through the gloom that shrouded it's sharp features, she realized that she did not know this man yet...

"But...what is it? Oh King of Fate, tell me! What is the Peace of which all can share equally?"

Even as she asked it in her dream, the thrill of terror that griped her spine and sent her plunging deep through an icy abyss spoke the answer plainly enough...

She awoke breathless and drenched in sweat, the room was black except for the green glow of the digits on her alarm clock.

Relena tossed back the covers and went to her window to stare out at the moonless cloudy night...

...& The Night Just Grinned Viciously Back at the once Queen of the Earth Sphere Unified Nation.

_Cowboy Bebop and all it's characters are the property of their respective owners. Like wise for the characters and world of Gundam Wing and all it's inventions._

_All of this I manipulate into the following tale for zero profit of my own and general public entertainment for any who seek it..._

….MUAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!

((...and apparently the one time I DONT put a big authors note is when I need one... This is Gundam Wing Universe. The Characters of Spike, Faye and Jet are (now) all members of the Red Dragon Syndicate. Vicious is sill in his position of 'enforcer', but as will be explained later, him and Spike never had their complete falling out over Julia. The Bebop, instead of being a ship, is the 'classy' night club on Jazz St that serves as 'the dragon's den'.

So people know what up, I started writing (Gundam Wing Trieze x Noin) BTRw... then it's prequel TPoYI... then a Halloween sidestory placed AFTER BTRw... and Now I'm going ahead and releasing the official sequel before any of those are even finished and have been stalled for a few months... why?

Well for one, as far as publishing things in any sane order is concerned... already failed miserably.

Two, Vicious crawled in the back of my head with a gun and told me to drive the damn story cuz he wasn't waiting on all that pacifistic crap any longer... (figuratively of course. I'm not THAT insane...yet.) SO HERE WE GO!))

* * *

><p>The tail of the heavy sedan slid out wide around the bend, the smell of burning rubber, oil and transmission fluid filling the cab. The mistake was well calculated to give the white-blond haired driver a chance to squeeze off a shot or two out the open window before steadying the front wheels to the center of the road and slamming his feet in rapid succession to tear back into top gear for the straight away towards a main road intersection.<p>

Sure enough the trailing blacked-out coup was unable to react with it's driver dead and both of the shooters hanging out the side windows were thrown wide of the car as it bounced on the curb before careening into the brick apartments that lined the narrow street on the edge of the western slums.

Vicious barely blinked as he slammed the car to a stop with a screech at the red light and traded the 1911 .45ACP for a disposable lighter and cigarette. He could hear the shouts of residents drawn out of their abodes by the sound of the ruckus – or rather the silence after the disturbance, since people in that area knew better then to get involved. He still had a drop off to make at Kao's however and blew off the end of the red light to cut off a station wagon driven by somebody's young mother.

The smoke streamed out his nostrils to be pulled out the window as he rolled it up to better hide his features. He was positive that the only sound louder then the lady's horn was probably the exclamations of her children at the myriad of bullet holes that surely riddled the back and sides of his car.

* * *

><p>The hole-ridden beat up sedan pulled into the open warehouse loading door causing both Spike and Faye to start for the nearest firearms before they recognized the more then familiar driver.<p>

"Aw gezz, see _that_ is exactly why _everyone_ hates being around you, Spike. Without fail! Every time! _That one_ has to show up and you NEVER warn anyone!"

Spike ejected the butt-end of a cig with a heavy sigh, settling back with his arms behind his head on the tattered couch that had been found in the next door junkyard.

"Hey it's not like he tells me when he's gonna drop in, he just does it."

"Oh? Then how does he always know where you are if your not the one telling him?"

Spike lifted a finger to point at the high steel rafters and Faye frowned up at them. A black bird that looked like a mix between a crane and a raven let out a loud mourning caw before swooping down over the two to land on it's master's shoulder as Vicious got out of the car. There was a loud fretful groan: Jet had just come around the stack of storage crates to spot the mostly wrecked vehicle.

"Oh, no, no, no! Don't tell me you want me to fix that thing up again? It was a miracle I got it to run in the first place!" Jet pulled at his face in frustration – he hated having to do pro bono work all the time even if his 'salary' from the higher-ups in the syndicate was supposed to cover the trouble. There was just no compensating for the shadow of destruction that followed the introverted professional criminal.

"Don't worry it's beat." as if to prove the point there was a chiming clang as the entire exhaust system dropped out the bottom of the vehicle. Jet cringed before shaking his head as he went back to the leftover Chinese reheating in the microwave of the building's office. Vicious gave up one of the dried fruits he kept on him to the expectant bird as he walked over to the couch.

"Guessing you got over to Kao's place already or you wouldn't be so calm." Spike pulled another cigarette from his pack with his mouth and lazily lit it. Faye got up from her perch with an uncomfortable grumble and went to join Jet in order to get as far away from the volatile killer as she could. The bird lifted off to fly silently out into the night content with it's reward.

"Yeah, where's that bonus package Mardok gave you to hold onto?"

Spike turned over the miniature lock-box he'd tucked into his inner breast pocket earlier that day. Vicious rested his katana next to him as he sat. The lock was open and it's contains out for review in a blink before proceeding to extract and prepare a few doses of the various powders for himself on a pocket mirror.

"So... exactly what happened to your ride this time?"

"Some punks I didn't have time for down on the west side..."

"Oh, whoa, wait!" Faye had come back over hearing that, "Your not talking about that local street co-op? You DO know they got Snake backing over the weekend? You so did NOT just drive here after getting in a fight with them!"

"Why the FUCK should I care?" he finished off the second line of heroin and moved onto the coke.

"I don't know Mr. Invincible, maybe because those blue-balled bastards are looking for any excuse to take you down? They're probably already prepping to SWAT this place, Jesus!"

"Then leave." Faye let out a frustrated growl and started packing her things together grumbling under her breath all the while. Spike was never the paranoid type and continued ignoring the drama queen.

"So, I guess we might as well go ahead and meet up with that kid asap and get that errand done for Kao. I'm parked a few blocks over..."

"Can't do it till later, got work at Forté. I'll get out at 11." he was packing up the rest of the supplies and tucked it safely away.

"Ah. I could drop you off if that's what your after." Spike couldn't help thinking '_So that's why your in a bad mood.'_

He knew how much Vicious hated playing by anyone's rules, and trapping him in a Michelin star kitchen for four hours was always certain to test his patience even if it was _his_ culinary skills that had earned the place it's claim to fame several years back. It was one thing to be able to cook a delicious french style meal – it was something completely different when it could still taste to the same high standards after incorporating a doubly lethal dose of strychnine. It was one of a myriad of talents that put Vicious at the top of the Dragon syndicates favorites list... and the top of everyone else's hated list.

"Oh, is someone getting your 'special' souffle tonight?" Faye had always had a bad habit of not being able to stay away from dangerous things, even when she knew better.

"If they send their order back too many times, sure, why not." The drugs were starting to do their work.

"...and by too many you mean _at all_." Spike couldn't help laughing at that, it was a rare privilege of his as the closest thing to a friend Vicious had. It was far less likely for him to find a katana buried up to it's black hilt in his chest without warning – something that happened more often then not around the touchy 33 year old criminal.

Faye just shook her head as she slung her pack over one shoulder and tucked her pistol into the back of her yellow shorts before heading out the nearest exit.

Without even a squawk the bird swooped back inside to do a pinwheel turn over the two on the couch before exiting as swiftly as it had come.

Faye burst back in the way she'd come,

"HOLY FUCK do I HATE being right!" She didn't even stop to explain any further as she dove in between the nearest aisle of crates with gun in hand.

Spike had forgotten for a second what she was referring to and just stared questioningly at Vicious who was slumped forwards with eyes closed, his arms resting on each knee and head hanging. There was no telling if he was even the slightest bit aware of the world around him.

"SPIKE!" Gun fire erupted from the office Jet had gone into followed by the sound of the locks being blasted off the various doors to the huge steel building.

"No choice." Spike stood where he was and picked off the first few targets on the upper catwalk as Jet barreled out into the main room with an AR in each hand sending off a grouping each time he got a clear shot.

It was quickly clear that they were out numbered pretty badly as gunfire started to fill the air and he instinctively grabbed Vicious by the back of his jacket dragging him along as he leaped over the back of the couch and dove for where Jet had knocked over a stack of the smaller storage boxes next to the already bullet ridden sedan. Without even a glimmer of acknowledgment Vicious took hold of the AR in Jet's left arm and wrenched it to fire at the lock on the sedan's trunk before tossing the lid up and rolling inside.

"What the...?" Jet sputtered out just before Spike shoved his head down as another spray of bullets glanced by them.

"Is it just me or are these guys getting to be worse and worse shots?" Spike was keeping an fervent eye on their exposed flank as he reloaded his pistols.

"It's all the damn ex-soldiers! Now the war is over they got nothing else better to do!"

"Hey, aren't _you_ an ex-soldier Jet?"

"Military Police, different story!" Just as they swung up to return fire with the Snake Soldiers now scattered across the upper catwalk, there was the clicks of rifles coming to the ready behind them as the ground level group came around behind them to form a firing squad keeping their distance.

"HANDS UP!"

Spike couldn't help his sheepish grin as he muttered to Jet,

"...like it really matters."

One of the syndicate soldiers jacketed in their official colors standing near the back of the line-up was obviously one of the operation chiefs,

"Turn him over nice like and we might even feel gracious enough to give you the offered reward."

"Sorry, afraid that isn't really up to us."

The trunk lid busted up and Vicious fired the grenade launcher in rapid succession quickly killing most of the blockade and knocking the rest from their feet. He shoved it into Jet's chest with most of the rounds still in it as he rushed forwards and drew his blade to quickly finish off the survivors.

Spike pulled out an AK that was waiting loaded in the trunk as Jet put the rest of the grenades to good use. They both had Vicious covered easily as he set about hunting down the rest of the team that had scattered throughout the stacks of inventory. With cries still echoing off the steel walls Spike casually sat down on one of the crates to light up another cigarette and offered one to Jet.

"It's usually best to just stay out of the way and let him do his thing," Nervously, and obviously unconvinced, Jet took it continuing to glance around for someone trying to jump them as soon as they let down their guard. There was an especially excruciating cry from the other end of the warehouse.

"I guess you have a point..." Just then some of the debris shifted near-by and Jet had his gun leveled in an instant, while Spike just puffed away.

"Hey, don't shoot, it's just me... So much for trying to outflank them..." Faye finally dislodged herself from the pile.

Spike gave her his best patronizing tone,

"Aw was Faye going to try and be a hero?"

Jet snorted,

"More like she got caught in the crossfire trying to sneak out the back."

"Hey! That's not nice, I wasn't just going to leave you guys here..."

"Sure you weren't... bet you heard the word 'reward' and had to stop to wonder if you could collect." the rest of the warehouse had fallen silent.

Vicious walked back over emerging out of the haze that was starting to settle, his black attire only deepened by the blood soaking into it. He casually busted out the drivers window and reached down to pull the 1911 .45ACP out of the side pocket, he popped the magazine out to check it briefly and then snapped it back in before pointing it directly at Faye...and then firing just to the side of her head. There was the wet impact sound as a man's body dropped dead behind her.

"Let's go." He pulled the black duffel bag's strap that was slung over the back of the driver's seat out and started heading to exit the scene of the massacre. "I'm gonna need a shower first."


	2. Day In the Life Part 2

A t N G V B... Ch3

((Just so you know, I'm remaking most of the Cowboy Bebop elements because I just don't know the 'behind the scenes' as well and probably wouldn't get it right anyways, So sorry to the detail obsessed. i.e. The Van not being called The Van because I don't know the real rules that are supposed to apply to them etc. and so I'm at least doing the original concept the respect of not even trying to call it the same thing.

P.S. I'm not intending to encourage hate or discrimination of any kind. This is just a work of fiction that happens to have an extremely violent nature in general and while including 'stereotyped' characters throughout I am not prejudice against anyone for how they choose to live there life. Some personalities are intentional exaggerations and not representative of any actual group of people, nor are the attitude I hold towards them, Peace, Love, and sure...why not, rainbows all around too.

Also any information on the nature or use of any illegal substance is derived from inquiry of both online sources as well as informal interviews with individuals whom have had experience with these substances or dealt with users of them. I have not, nor intend to use any illegal substances, nor encourage anyone else to – go for a hike, its bound to be more rewarding (and less expensive/dangerous) all round.))

* * *

><p>(Day In The Life part2 &amp;3)<p>

The kitchen of Forté was bustling with activity as one of the young waitresses carrying a plate of food meekly made her way over to where Vicious (or rather Vee R. D. as was neatly embroidered over his breast pocket) was tending the grill and rapidly turning a pile of assorted vegetables into uniform diced cubes.

"Um," she swallowed hard and couldn't help shaking a little when his cold gray eyes shifted over to regard her, not slowing his work in the slightest, "They...wanted a medium rare, not medium well..." she nervously gave him her biggest apologetic smile. Vicious slammed the large chopping knife into the wooden splash board on the wall in front of him and wrenched out the pile of "done" tickets to rifle through them quickly and stopping at the particular order that had just been sent out.

"It _says_ 'medium well'." His accusing eyes flicked back to drill into her once more.

"The wrong thing got written down..." She was slowly shrinking into her shoes. There was something wrong with this picture, Rebecca never made dumb mistakes. He glanced back at the ticket again.

"This isn't even your table." A bead of sweat fell from her brow.

"Eric asked me to tell you he was sorry?" Vicious slapped the plate from her hands, sending it hurling across the room to smash over the well-placed garbage can, before he roughly pushed past her.

"Pedro!" one of the nearest under chefs jumped to take over the grill.

"Vee, he'll be gone at the end of the week..." The head chef was neatly filling and folding fresh tortellini and made no move to stop his second in command as he stormed over to the swinging double doors. He only got a low growl in reply.

Eric was loitering in the small alcove formed by the dividing wall outside the kitchen that lead behind the bar. His only warning was the sudden gasp of the female bartender he was flirting with before he was yanked backwards by his shirt collar, dragged into the kitchen and out the back door.

"HEY! Whoa! Chill out dude I'm sorry! It was just a mistake!" Vicious slammed the kid's back against the brick wall of the alleyway, he dug his fingers hard into Eric's left shoulder pinning him there and causing him to yelp in pain.

"...and then instead of owning up you go and waste Rebecca's time, who HASN'T been a complete fuck up _every damn night_, apologizing **for** you! Because what? Too scared to do it yourself?" Eric, in one of the few intelligent moments in his life, bit back his response and gave a pained grunt instead. The cold gray eyes burrowing into him were just waiting for him to make a wrong move. "One of these days I'm going to serve you your own balls and cock deep fried with a fucking pickle you little piece of shit! Now stop fucking around and do your job right."

To accentuate the point he brought his knee hard into the kid's groin followed with two hard kicks in the ribs once on the ground with eyes crossed. 'Vee' lit a cigarette before going back inside to return to his own work – fuck building health codes.

* * *

><p>Nothing looked stranger to Spike then when Vicious was wearing the all white sous chef uniform with his matching hair pulled back into a short pony tail. He threw his duffel bag into the back seat of Spike's tan Buick Roadmaster and climbed in after it, cloth wrapped katana in hand.<p>

Spike had arrived a good 30 minutes early and had been waiting to pick up his partner in crime for what was proving to be the most unpredictable night all week. As he started the car on its way, Vicious set about stripping off the ill suited attire and changed into an extra set of his typical garb that had been packed still folded and plastic wrapped from the dry cleaners.

"You get a hold of him yet?" He had tapped Spike out of the driver's seat at the first light they stopped at.

"Y~hep." Spike stretched, now in the passenger's seat.

"Where are we picking him up?"

Spike let out a heavy sigh reluctant to admit it,

"Your not going to like it..."

Vicious gave him a venomous glare,

"_Where._" There was no point trying to avoid it, he was driving after all.

"...Sizzle Buns." Vicious threw up a little in his mouth.

"No wonder Kao was so fucking pleased with himself even with Montague in town."

"Montague's around? Damn, I didn't know that..." The Dragon Head Council consisted of 7 members, the three major power players being Kao Sarnack, Mao Yenrai and Montague Voltair. Out of the three the seven and a half foot tall white haired giant was indisputably the most powerful in both body & politic. It was something that Yenrai never minded, and Kao always despised making it only natural for him to take it out on the other two's favorite errand-boy – especially considering the uncanny resemblance Vicious had to the Dragon leader, a constant source of rumor within the secretive crime band."Well apparently this kid's the only one who's been able to find a supplier on such short notice... so we need him... so you need to play _nice_."

"Bullshit."

Spike just sighed again at that. He'd tried...

The only thing more flamboyant then the gaggle of feminine males gathered outside the entrance to the popular gay bar was it's large brightly animated neon sign that occupied the roof of the building. The rainbow letters of "Sizzle" endlessly frying away on a pan while a pair of legs wearing ass-less chaps had "BUNS" tattooed across the bare cheeks waving from one side to the other, occasionally sitting upon the frying pan next to it.

"I'll run in and get him..." Spike looked over at Vicious who was resting his forehead on the steering wheel and holding his arms crossed over his stomach. Even with the white mane of hair mostly obscuring it, his face was noticeably paler then usual. "...you just...hang in there."

There was a grunt in reply.

Spike straightened his jacket and ran a hand through his disorderly hair as he walked towards the colorful and raucous group clustered outside. His own interests might lay squarely with the opposite sex, but that didn't mean he didn't want to try and make a nice impression.

"Hello Ladies... would any of you happen to know where Johnathan is?"

"Ladies? I'll make **you **my 'lady' good sir!" a young Michael Alig look-a-like hoped down. ((don't know Party Monster? Go look it up.)) "Spike isn't it? We have been conversing on the phone I believe? Ooh! You_ are_ more dashing then your voice suggests!" Johnathan extended his hand as if expecting Spike to kiss his knuckles.

Spike blushed at the complement, ignoring the source, and lightly shook it by the fingers not feeling up to giving the kid much more then that.

"Why thanks... We should probably get this done fast like though, my friend is not feeling very well tonight." Johnathan looked overly crestfallen with that.

"Oh phewy! I was hoping you two would come in for a few drinks," He laughed, "Like I'm not plastered already!" His friends laughed along with him. A particularly tall drag queen was giving Spike a hungry eyed look.

"Whats his name? Can't we do anything to help the poor soul to perk up to some fun?"

Spike looked back to where the car waited. Vicious was hunched over facing away from them with his head bobbing down intermittently, there was no way to know if he was throwing up or just doing more drugs until he pulled up and his lighter flared to life illuminating the length of tobacco rolled marijuana protruding from his lips.

"Yeah... I don't think he ever takes to 'fun' very well. We really should be on our way though, the sooner we leave the sooner you can get back to your party." He couldn't help adding in his head '_if you even make it back from this at all...'_

"Oh well FINE! If you insist! Ta-ta all! I shall be returning to you later my loves!" Johnathan made a big point of kissing and hugging each of his friends before he happily followed along to the car. Spike put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in closer trying to speak quietly.

"Hey look, you really might want to tone it down a bit for this trip. Like I said, my friend isn't feeling great and he gets aggravated easily..."

"Oh what!" Johnathan practically screeched, "He's not some sort of homophob or something is he?" he scoffed, "Hey the only one **I** ever '_tone it down_' for is my father, and that's only cuz he pays my bills. So your _friend_ can just deal!"

Spike was sure he would... and that Johnathan's father would be having a lot fewer bills to pay very soon.

Oh well. He had tried.

* * *

><p><em>...Don't follow the light...<em>

Spike knew that this was going to end badly as soon as their passenger had insisted they stop off at a gas station first thing and taken nearly ten minutes to return to the car with a pack of cigarettes. Vicious had said nothing of it, keeping his jaw set and continuing to smoke away.

"Soo... The Roadmaster huh? It is a _very _nice granny wagon, my nana's got one. _Quite_ the GMILF magnet." Johnathan was sitting in the middle of the backseat once again, leaning forwards between the front seats to better give directions and holding a small white snakeskin clutch purse on his lap.

"Not mine." Vicious slowly exhaled a plum of smoke as Spike accepted the lit blunt from him without protest.

"Oh, did you_ steal _it? That would be exciting!" the blinker was flicked on for the upcoming street that had been outlined as the first left they would make. Spike decided he needed to start speaking up to try to divert attention.

"Yeah from me. He just can't stand anyone else's driving."

"Ha! Me neither! Of course most of mine is usually done from the _back_ seat anyways..." Spike glanced to the side nervously assessing the likely hood of Vicious simply vaulting the kid head first through the front windshield. "Hey can I have a drag off that?"

"Not mine. Where do we go after the right at the school?" Spike passed the shortening length back to Vicious who made a point of taking two long slow inhalations, focusing on savoring the coveted flavorful smoke.

"Um, I think it's either a left or a right onto Vail... Mmmmm, not sure which till I get there..." His phone rang and he promptly pulled it out, "Hellow? Angie! Yeah? Nuh, UH! Nuh, UH! Oh you know_ it would so _be the other way around! Uh huh? Really? Really? Nuh uh... Uh huh? Nuh uh... I can NOT believe that... Uh huh?" Spike propped his elbow up on the window sill and rubbed his eyes with his hand, HE couldn't believe this. Kao had really outdone himself this time; it was too perfect, there was **no way** this arrangement was some sort of accident. "...Oh! It's that left!" Johnathan excitedly tapped on Vicious' shoulder and pointed at the upcoming intersection before returning to his repetitive phone exchange.

There was no reaction from the stony faced statue other then to turn the blinker on again and slow to a halt waiting for the oncoming traffic to break. He was just easing the wheel to the left and about to accelerate through the maneuver when Johnathan shrieked out again.

"...I meant RIGHT!" The wheel cut hard to the right and Vicious' foot stamped on the accelerator whipping around the back end with a screech of tire smoke to make the tight corner. Johnathan was hurled into the left-side door with a heavy thud. "OW! My phone!" he initiated a desperate search in the back seat and the rhinestone encrusted object was quickly located in the drab interior. "Angie? Angie? Hello? Hellow? Oh darn, it dropped the call too! Geez where did you learn how to drive anyways?" he put the glittering object away in his white bag.

Vicious remained wrapped in silence.

"Japanese Championship Tour, its where we met actually; Now where are we supposed to go from here?" Spike couldn't wait for them to get this over with.

"Huh, What? Oh, right! It's behind a deli...ummm... don't really remember what the name was, think it's Portuguese...but it's got a big green sign." It seemed every store front they were passing was either a dry cleaners or ethnic deli-style eatery of some kind – each complete with a large, predominately green, sign...

Finally they had parked the car and been led to the entrance of the secretive hide-out. The burly Jamaican standing outside the doorway with a cigar was thoroughly unamused at Johnathan's chattering greeting and overly dramatic plea 'for entrance into the magic one's domain'. Simply breathing with exaggerated puffs he silently gave Spike and Vicious a long appraising stare, the katana in Vicious' hand an even longer one, then banged on the door next to him and the sound of various locks being unlatched within responded.

...the subterranean storage room turned laboratory was painted with that pasty blue-green color that had been a staple color in mental institutions and rehab centers' for years. There were a variety of armed guards seated about the room passing the endless hours away in a nearly catatonic trance from the fumes that constantly circulated through the dank room. Spike couldn't help keeping a red and black bandana pressed over his mouth, sour expression on his face, as he stood carrying the black suitcase full of cash.

Vicious ignored it all; stepping up to greet the shriveled man perched on a metal stool wearing large magnified goggles in order to closely monitor the chemical reactions that were processing in the elaborate set of glass equipment, before sitting down across a small coffee table from another man wearing the bright yellow vest and blue pinstripe suit with black and white shoes; the standard dress for mid-level Yellow Ray syndicate members – a smaller organization predominately full of traffickers of speed and speed accessories including a strong base in the racing underground. They were usually one of the few groups he got along with since earning their unconditional respect once upon a time.

"The order is prepared in full... the ingredients are all 100% pure." A shoe box lined with a large plastic Ziploc full of pills was placed on the table. Vicious' eyes narrowed with suspicion..._usually got along with._

"What do you mean, ingredient**s**?" he had been told by Kao he would be picking up pure pressed tablets of 'molly' – the highest grade of Ecstasy and rare to find uncut in such large quantities. ((again, this is all made up BS.))

"Well Mr. Kao said he wanted something exclusive, this mix is perfect to fill any nitch of feel-good seekers. Little Johnny over there has already gotten quite a great deal of orders coming in from the rave scene, it's popularity is practically guaranteed."

Vicious looked from the man to "Little Johnny", who was attempting to huff the vapors drifting off the chemistry set; to Spike, who's eyes were beginning to water as he continued to clutch the wadded bandana to his mouth; before shaking his head with a hiss and proceeding to pull out a handful of the tablets to examine more closely. He crushed one between the folds of a 50$bill and sifted through the pile of dust that remained. Scowling he sniffed half of it into one nostril and sat back to analyze the rush of sensations and 'tastes' it caused.

"Coke," _not rare, "_Mescalin," _not expensive,_ "and one of those R2-D2 types." _not molly. _He was sure setting up this little waste of time was exactly what Kao had intended from the start.

"You mean E2C-T2D?" Johnathan piped in from the corner of his decrepit heaven. Vicious shot him a 'whatever' death glare. Spike was trying not to breath and failing miserably causing him to start wheezing as tears were involuntary streaming down his face.

"Whatever: Kao gets what Kao asks for. Hand it over Spike." he finished off the rest of the powder so as not to waste it even if the oral dosage was four times the amount of an insnufflation portion.

Spike stepped forwards and stiffly held out the case, which the Ray representative took and checked that it contained the full amount of cash. Vicious scooped up the box and headed to the door with a nod to the chemist; Spike following so close he was practically pressing into his back trying to escape the necrotic vapors as quickly as possible. Johnathan made his own flamboyant goodbyes trying to absorb as much of the dizzying mix before leaving himself.

Spike doubled over coughing outside and had to lean back against the far wall of the ally to catch his breath and light a cigarette,

"Jesus! What are they making? Meth?" his head was spinning but the first few drags of tobacco seemed to start undoing the damage – either that or the numbness was just setting into his lungs. Vicious stood next to the doorway with the package tucked under his arm lighting up his own cigarette and eying Johnathan coldly as he stumbled past and started weaving his way down the alley as if drunker then before.

"Come on lovelies! Hehehe, let us go on with all haste! The night is still young!" Spike didn't even bother to appraise the impact of that line and simply started trudging back towards the car. Neither of them noticed Vicious hand the bouncer Johnathan's rhinestone covered cell phone that he'd slipped out of the white snake skin clutch purse as he'd passed by oblivious to his surroundings.

"You'll need this if you want to keep your customers." There was two 50$ bills wrapped around it.

The massive smile that cracked on the larger man's face had far more to do with the implications of that statement then the pocket change he was being offered, his voice was full of sunshine,

"Why bless you, sir! You can come back any time, and do have yourself a _very_ good night." he gave a big man's deep chuckle and enjoyed a satisfying last look at a soon to be solved nightly annoyance that was writing his initials in piss and giggling away at the other end of the alleyway; He had HATED that kid.

Spike was busy making use of a garbage can at the mouth of the alley, giving into the sick feeling in his stomach from the toxic fumes.

* * *

><p>"Oh! Uhh... Driver? You should have taken that turn back there!" Johnathan was in the back seat once again. Vicious continued to stare blankly out at the road as Spike was hunched against the door with his face resting against the cool surface of the window.<p>

"Kao wants to see you first."

Spike looked sharply over at Vicious but didn't move, he _knew_ that was bullshit.

"Oh! Really? I'm so excited!" The Roadmaster pulled into a road that ran through a corporate center where they were in the midst of clearing and digging the foundation for a condominium development. He turned the car down one of the sandy tracks made by the heavy earth-movers before parking between the large piles of dirt and turning the lights out.

"Come on, get out." Vicious didn't wait to tell him again exiting the vehicle. Spike did nothing, just closed his eyes and waited for it to be over.

"But it's so dark!" Johnathan practically tripped out the car door. "Where's my phone?" he was feeling through the tiny bag for an object he would never find. The beam of a small LED flashlight flicked on illuminating the way through the black tunnel of night to where Vicious was waiting. "Oh that's much better!"

Silence had not fallen for so long since before they had been joined by the chattering kid in the Sizzle Buns parking lot.

Vicious reappeared out of the darkness and tossed a pack of Newport cigarettes at Spike after he had opened the door to get back in the car with his katana.

"Here you can have 'em, I don't smoke that crap." Spike picked the nearly new pack off his lap and gave it a defeated stare as Vicious flipped the lights back on and headed back out to the road.

"Thanks, neither do I." He tucked them away anyways knowing he always ended up around Faye more often then he liked, and that she would squish her large pillow-like breasts together and bat her lashes sweetly inquiring to 'borrow' one of the cancer-sticks every other hour as she always did. "You know your gonna get in trouble for this," Spike looked over at Vicious who had a chillingly pleasant smile on his face now that order had been restored. "_We_ are going to get in trouble for this."

They both knew he wasn't talking about police. Vicious ignored him and lit another cigarette.

"Pfft... oh _of course_ you don't care if it's not the right stuff either," Spike glared out the window at the passing scenery, "I bet you still wouldn't care if they had just wasted us on the spot while you were hiding in the fucking trunk – doesn't matter how long it's been or how many damn times I've saved your fucked up ass, your never going to forgive me are you?"

There was a heavy silence as the tobacco of Vicious' cigarette burned away into ash; his body was indeed currently alight with a tingling, glowing feeling as the large dose of Ecstasy "equivalent" substances pulsed through his bloodstream slowly overcoming the opiates from earlier that night. Spike continued his one-sided conversation,

"I mean for the love of god THAT saved your ass too! How much worse would it have been if you _actually_ went through with trying to quit just for Julia to turn around and stab you in the back later? If I hadn't slept with her, we wouldn't have found out she was being paid by the Snakes, **you** would have been **fucked**, end of story!" Spike crossed his arms over his chest like a pouting child.

"Like you say; you found out...**after** you slept with her behind my back." The pleasant face was gone and he fixed Spike with a chilling glare, "Not before."

Spike threw his hands up at the accusation,

"Well what the FUCK was I supposed to do? I mean really, Really? Is there_ anyone _who ever gets close to you and DOESN'T end up a bloody dismembered mess! So what if I cared about what was going to happen to her? Why the fuck _did you _even give a fucking shit?" The car slammed to a stop as Vicious continued grill Spike with the same frigid, soul-sucking look. "You know what? Go ahead! Go the FUCK ahead and do it! Turn the god damn car around,** MY** _god damn car_, and go stuff me in whatever fucking hole you shoved 'Little Johnny'. I had enough of this shit YEARS ago..." He was done with his tantrum and puffed a heavy sigh.

Vicious backed the car up to start turning it around, _if that's what he wanted..._

"What are you doing..?" Vicious stopped mid three-point turn and gave him a blank look since he felt the answer should be obvious. Spike's jaw dropped, "I don't _actually_ **_want _**to die _tonight_!" Vicious shrugged putting the cigarette between his lips and reversed the maneuver so that they could continue on in the direction they were traveling before they'd stopped. "...Christ, can't you tell when I'm not being serious?" Spike was taking deep breaths to recover from the brief scare.

"Nope." Vicious couldn't help the evil grin wrapping across his face – it was a lie after all, he couldn't help fucking with him. "Besides... you heard the same thing from Kao. Considering his bad information this is the best we can do; We have what he ordered and we don't need to go back there for shit we can find anywhere."

"Your thinking Kao just set this all up to keep you busy for the night, aren't you?"

"You noticed, huh?" There was at least _one_ person he was close to and somehow hadn't ended up a bloody dismembered mess so far... Spike Spiegel.

...He did often wonder how long that streak of luck would last...


	3. Club Bebop

_**...Party at Club Bebop...**_  
>((Shout-out to... WXCI . ORG live-streaming commercial free music 247:

In the words of Nathan Explosion of Metalocalypse season 2 episode 15 (Dethdad) aprox 00:07:40 "...Danbury, Connecticut is more brutal."

Both (or rather all three depending how you look at it) big influences in writing this particular FanFic...here's to proving him right!))

* * *

><p>Spike came storming back into the front room of Club Bebop that occupied the ground floor of the building on Jazz street. It was a few minutes ago he'd wordlessly passed by Jet to disappear down the back hallway that led to the members-only lower level dance-hall. Now he threw himself into a tall bar chair next to him and vigorously rubbed at his own hair in frustration.<p>

A live trio was still playing soft jazz in the corner of the nearly vacant bar despite the time nearing 2am.

"Why? Why? Why? Every god damn time!" He hit his forehead into the bar to accentuate each word. "He _knows_ that he hates cock-suckers, fagots and fuck-ups; so why does he even bother pretending like he didn't know EXACTLY how mixing them together into one _shit-sandwich_ would turn out? Not like anyone else thinks it's a huge fucking surprise..."

Jet grimaced,

"Yeesh... another one of those deals huh?" he gave his drink a reappraising look; if he was going to end up listening to another one of **these** stories he probably should get the next one without the coke-cola... or maybe even switch to straight 151.

He couldn't help shuddering remembering the last one... or really any of the 'wonderful' stories Spike had about his adventures in the passenger seat... ...he could have done without the details about _exactly_ how terrible it was when someone had the idiocy to tell Vicious 'no one can see themselves without a mirror's help' and had promptly been proven wrong as his eyes were pulled out to be held up still attached for the screaming victim to gaze back on himself.

...Rule #169: **Never **try and use a philosophical argument to get out of punishment. You'll lose.

There was drunken laughter from further down the bar where group of low level thugs, typically used to do most of the criminal grunt work for the syndicate and considered expendable to the organization, were clustered together. It could take years before qualifying to be 'jacketed' as an official 'employee' and allowed into the exclusive nightly party down below, and even then such an honor was only bestowed if one was considered valuable enough to warrant an exclusive contract with the criminal organization.

"Aw come on Spike! Ye got it all wrong man! He loves the cock so much he just can't bare it!" The other guys laughed along, while Spike just rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of one of the straight Jacks with no ice Jet had signaled for. Feeling safe in their surroundings and veins full of alcohol another one decided to jump on the bandwagon,

"Ha Ha! Yeah...you know how those Snake kids get raised, probably was 16 before someone had the heart to tell him that wasn't milk coming out of his daddy's cock." The group was really loving it up, it didn't matter that they were otherwise terrified of the gaunt shadowy killer, if anything it fueled their insults.

"Ho! What's that 'Oliver'? You want some more? Sure, just let daddy get his hard on again...Ha ha ha..." they were mostly red in the face from laughing so hard.

Spike had heard enough and sighed. He didn't even need to raise his voice to knock the fear back into them,

"Hey, Vicious...Didn't see you there." The group went silent in an instant, their faces frozen in fear as their lives flashed before there eyes. Spike raised his glass to his lips, "...Psych."

He took another gulp of the amber liquor, Vicious had dropped him off at the club and taken his car to 'deal' with 'other business' and was yet to return, but the fake-out sure as hell shut them up quick.

It was common knowledge that Vicious had been born with no name to a Blue Snake syndicate owned prostitute and had earned himself full-time employment with the Red Dragons when he was barely 13 by selling out his 'father' for a chance to kill the man 'properly'. According to the legend that meant spending 3days slowly dissecting the man piece by piece – after witnessing the spectacle Montague himself had dubbed the young boy with the only title that described such a display of raw, calculated and brutal hatred: Vicious. ((long flashback version is an upcoming chapter for the spoonfeed needers))

"Well, if that's not the cue to call it a night I don't know what is..." Jet threw back the rest of the liquor and slid off the high stool.

"Aw what? Your not gonna come down?" Spike was disappointed.

"You know I'm not really allowed in there."

"Oh come on, neither is Faye and they let her in all the time."

"I don't really think I'll find a melon stand open this late," Jet cupped the empty air of his non-existent boobs and pulled at his shirt, "besides I gotta get up for work in 5 hours and explain to my supervisor exactly why a good three dozen chopped up bodies had to be carted out of the warehouse during my shift. It's not gonna fly when I say they were after a bunch of convenience store snacks." On paper Jet was a security guard for a local contractor.

"Well at least they won't argue with you so much about making assault rifles standard issue anymore." Jet laughed weakly.

"Yeah, always the bright side huh?"

The "dark side" pushed open the front door and stalked inside with katana slung over his back.

Jet gave Spike a 'good luck' pat on the back as he hastened to the door with one last look over at the group that had been making all the noise before. For an instant he could see them as they would be if Vicious really had walked in a minute sooner and overheard them – pieces plastered everywhere. It really was no wonder why things like that kept happening over and over again, respect is a lesson often learned too late.

"Hey Vic, Someone can't wait to see you..."

"I bet. What did you tell them?" Vicious didn't bother ordering and simply leaned across the bar to snag the fullest bottle of vodka and take a long drink from it before turning to recline with his back against the bar holding himself up on his elbows.

"What I always tell them: the truth." Spike was extremely unsettled by the twisted smile behind the white veil of hair.

"Good. Lies are weak." He pushed himself up and took another swig from the bottle before handing it to Spike; who looked from the remains of his drink to the bottle and decided it was better not to argue taking a drink from it as well. "You ready to go down?" he straightened his tie and jacket before pulling out a cigarette.

Spike couldn't help noticing a slight tremor in his hand as he brought the lighter to ignite the tip, Vicious was definitely acting unusual. He looked normal, well for Vicious that is, too lean and gaunt with his piercing colorless eyes sunken and bloodshot from excess of drugs and lack of sleep.

"I guess. Don't know if I'm really in the mood for a party tonight..."

"Here... you should try em. They're not actually that bad." Vicious dropped three of the pills they had picked up earlier onto the bar. Spike picked one up and looked at it.

"How many of these have you taken already?" Spike was sure he'd found his answer as Vicious' strange grin remained plastered on his face.

"...maybe four. It's mostly coke." Spike shook his head and chased the little white pill with more vodka before giving the bottle back.

"Geez, just because you get all you want for free doesn't mean you should take it like it's free..." He couldn't help slipping the other two in his pocket for another time as he got up to follow Vicious into the club below...

* * *

><p>...Green and blue lasers cut through the veil of smoke that hung over the large multilevel room as colored lights flashed in accordance to the beat of the house music. The walls and columns were bedecked with the red and gold banners of the Red Dragon while the floors were made of black marble. Most of the various table and lounge areas that were arrayed in brass rail lined tiers descending down to the main dance floor were filled with patrons sporting the same colors – some in jackets like Vicious, others black suits with the red lapel blaze, and a few in plain cloths like Spike; most accompanied by women scantily clad in short, tight dresses rippling with beads and sequins that shimmered in the pulsing light.<p>

Vicious made his way down to the mid-level tier to an alcove where a table was set apart from the others. Two of the seats were currently occupied with Mao Yenrai on the left and Kao on the right...waiting with a smug smile on his toadish face.

"Vicious, the one and only. I heard you went and made quite a mess on my associate's property this evening." He nodded to Mao across from him. "Very sloppy of you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Vicious pursed his lips and puffed out a series of smoke rings watching each one slowly expand and float away dancing with colors from the lights.

"Oh, now, now, Kao. The end of the war was like the kitchen light coming on: the roaches are all panicking. It's hardly his fault that these things are happening more often these days... " Mao was happily eating away at his dinner. "...besides it's bound to make the Blue Snakes look weak to the local distributors seeking protection. I'm sure that's business we can easily pick up on."

"Still..." Kao was glaring at Mao – before when Spike had given them the news about the warehouse shoot out he'd feigned great concern for the impact of the incident on his own operations (some of which included completely legal businesses such as wholesaling convenience commodities). It wasn't the first time Mao had teased him into thinking he would have his support for having Vicious officially reprimanded and temporarily sanctioned, just to pull the rug out from under his feet. With that possibility out of the picture he decided to keep to his own complaints, "...not only did you not get the right package, you killed our liaison. It was my understanding he was a very profitable dealer, do you think this will go over well with the Rays if they assume we're trying to corner their business?"

"I saw to it they didn't lose their business and...your lying." Vicious casually took another swig out of the bottle.

"Excuse me?" Kao seemed to puff up as if steam was preparing to burst forth from his ears.

Spike who had been leaning against the rail off to the side of the seating area groaned quietly and nervously glanced at the personal security backing the syndicate leaders. This was not looking good... Vicious seemed oblivious – and probably was.

"You ordered the mix specifically, then lied about what we'd be picking up. Your not upset over hurting the Ray's feelings, your upset I didn't clear the whole lab and goad them into retaliating." Vicious stepped forwards and extinguished the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray on the table.

"Is this what you think, Spike?"

Definitely not good, Spike was left with no choice. If he didn't back Vicious up then he'd actually be alone against whatever charges Kao was about to try and push.

"Seemed...pretty obvious to me." He shot Vicious a dirty look, '_You better not be starting trouble for shits and giggles...'_

Mao was looking skeptically at Kao,

"Vicious has always kept us on good terms with the Rays, I thought that's why you insisted he see to this personally? I do hope you haven't kept our best operations manager busy all night while_your _operations pick went and let three of his men get arrested. Montague will certainly not be very forgiving towards him if that is the case. Our dear boys here have never been that sloppy, Isn't that right you two?" He smiled warmly.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Mao had been close friends with Spike's uncle and had personally sponsored his membership into the Red Dragons those years ago and always took a benevolent attitude towards his 'favorite team'. He honestly could kiss the man right then, but that was probably just the chemicals starting to go to work in his blood stream.

Kao threw his napkin onto the table.

"Fine, I guess we've decided to be satisfied to ignore this then?" Of course he diverted from the matter as soon as the seams of his cloak of lies began to unravel, but he was sure he'd get at least _some_ satisfaction. "Tell me Vicious... wont you join us for dinner? I hope so, there is a _very special_ delicacy I was looking forward to getting your _expert_ opinion on..." A sliver serving tray was placed on the table and the top removed, it was a whole poached Ox penis with testicles. "...Wont you try it?"

Vicious stared dryly at the offered 'food', he couldn't help the slight choking sounds as he used sheer force of will not to simply vomit on Kao – even if it would be well deserved as the man sat back enjoying the sight of his twitching face.

A presence suddenly filled the atmosphere and a massive hand consumed Vicious' shoulder – Montague Voltair had returned. He leaned down and picked up the fleshy length. He bit off half of it circling around the table to take his seat in the center, chewing away. ((Picture Mr. Selatcia, Metalocolypse))

"Too rubbery." a second bite consumed the rest of it and he wiped his hands with Kao's napkin. He looked to his left where Kao was shifting uncomfortably and right where Mao had his face buried in his hands laughing away before capturing Spike and Vicious in his gaze. "You will be taking over the next one. In a few days we will have the details for you. Go," he waved his hand dismissively, "enjoy the night."

* * *

><p>Vicious had assumed his usual perch lounging with his cigarettes, vodka and katana on a nook-like ledge formed by the modern style architecture; content to watch the timeless, unchanging, music-filled vortex swirl with people engaging in their nightly leisure activities.<p>

His perch was at head height next to one of the circular tables Spike particularly would gravitate to, a tier up and quarter of the way around the underground Clubroom from where the three council heads sat; more notably it was a step directly down from the bar. He rather liked the nights when Spike opted to sit elsewhere and he'd be left alone in his silent revelry. Unfortunately, it seemed he hadn't earned his peace yet this night and was enduring the presence of the usual collection of 'friends' (a word Spike applied too liberally in his opinion) that had seated themselves around the table to enjoy the assortment of on the house offerings 'The Dragon' provided for it's members.

Spike himself had accidentally found himself engaged in a futile attempt to flirt with the tactically dressed 'Mary' Jane Walker – one of the few women to have worked up past the rank of solider with an all or nothing approach to assignments that matched her attitude towards intimacy. Spike was clearly on the 'nothing' list and gradually had made more of a fool of himself attempting to back down from the situation he'd stumbled into – the Ecstasy-like drug in his system clearly hadn't helped.

There were three others at the table: Sammy 'Belt-fed' Cazzlor a heavy artillery/explosives expert and good friends with Jet; Timothy Fletcher a 'techy' with a background in electrical engineering whom had worked on a few assignments with Spike; and 'Ghosting' Barnacky, an uninvited guest & another assassin oriented errand-boy like Vicious who sported Kao's backing instead with his black and red three piece suit rather then the black and gold trimmed overcoat that was Montague's personal signature of endorsement, true to his colors (& name) he tended to shadow the two like a spy and jealously exploited any chance to criticize.

"So how the hell did three guys get arrested if it went off 'with out a hitch' anyways?" Spike was finally settling into more useful inquiries.

"Ah, the problem was that they timed it with 'Minister' Dorlain's press conference in order to make sure most of the pig's attention would be there... totally forgot that means the fucking _Preventors_would be on Terrorist patrol." Mary Jane accepted another drink from one of the red vested servers that circulated around the room. "Detected the crew making the modifications to the city's power grid and was on them like Gundamium catnip – only reason the main team evaded arrest was thanks to the decoy target they'd set up ahead of time in case the Snakes were going to try to ambush, barely had time to evacuate as it was."

"Makes you wonder where they got the tip off, cops usually stumble onto things, but they went after the tech team's locale and the false target at the same time," Fletcher was twitching occasionally as he obsessively continued to clatter away on his miniature laptop's keys, "the com logs show, wasn't till they looked at the re-routing actually done on-site that they clued on. Seems sloppy to not to scan, specially if they knew ahead of time."

"Is that so?" Sammy was hardly interested in the conversation and was entertaining the sparkly dressed prostitute on his knee who playfully let him slowly feed her fruit from the bowl on the table, not to mention the cash from his pocket as well.

"Isn't it obvious? Those guys fought Oz for over _half a year_ without getting caught, they know stealth." Spike was fascinated by the light tinkling produced when he stirred the ice cubes around with the straw in his glass of brandy, he could feel more then hear the sound as the music throbbed away in the background, "They fell for the trap Marlin intended for the Snakes – he left the techs high and dry in his plans not caring if they got killed," he had to shoot Barnacky a winning smirk, of course he was friends with the man spending the night in the Chamber, "should have considered how much worse it would be if they _only_ got arrested. Now Shin & Lin or someone else is out there doing overtime cleaning the mess up."

"Waste, All waste if you ask me, shouldn't gamble with the talent. Hate to go like that." Timothy shuddered and did another 'bump' of coke off the edge of his laptop.

"Oh, I suppose if you had been in charge its true 'Prince Licky' up there would have cleaned everything up nice and thorough like before they even got cuffed, huh?" Barnacky gestured towards Vicious who had been entranced by something in the distance, before taking a long drink from his beer to hide his smile at the snap of attention and open snarl _that_ name elicited.

Vicious would have killed Ghosting long ago if he could have gotten away with it, still he moved his hand to the grip of the 1911 .45ACP tucked in it's concealed holster just waiting for it to be worth using his last bullet and then facing the impossible task of escaping The Dragon's very heart alive with only his blade... death was inevitable, why not make it something worth everyone remembering?

Fletcher tried to discretely inquire what he was missing, mouthing '_Licky?'_, but only got a tight-lipped head shake from Sammy and a whispered "You really **don't** want to know." from Mary Jane in response.

"As IF!" Spike snorted, to far gone to care about the obvious offense taken by the man simmering behind him, "_WE _wouldn't have gone and made so much damn noise trying to leave red herrings everywhere; It's like he went and painted a big target sign around the whole operation! Things get a lot simpler when you don't force it and just let things flow according to the nature of each individual... _Right, _Vicious?"

Vicious was still staring hatefully down at Barnacky and gave no answer.

"Whats wrong, _Vic_? Still got a sour stomach from having to chauffeur a fairy around all night?" He ignored Spike's rebuttal and changed to openly teasing him now, "Maybe if you came down from time to time and took an interest in _mere mortal_ pastimes, Kao wouldn't feel so obliged to pick at your... disposition."

"And exactly _what_ is my 'disposition', _Barny_?" his colorless eyes flared. The other men at the table were starting to hold their breath and Sammy's prostitute cowered against his broad hairy chest.

Barnacky cocked his head giving the question exaggerated consideration,

"Angry... Spiteful... Unloved – Your like the child on the playground who can't have any fun and has to go corrupt all the good little boys and girls."

Mary Jane couldn't help laughing,

"You're one to talk getting jealous and picking fights all the time! Everyone know the real reason he doesn't like screwing whores is because he can't help that desperate attraction to tragedy he has," She gave Spike a sidelong glance causing him to drop his head into his hands to cover his face knowing the second part was a reference to Julia – a mistake he had made just as badly; before turning a mischievous smile Vicious' direction, "Besides he should hardly be the one paying with the heat he's packing in those skinny pants."

Vicious glared back unflattered; he gave a contemplating glance back at whatever had caught his attention across the room before dryly appraised the small group of antagonists again. Making a sharp gesture to summon the nearest server he sat upright swinging his legs over the edge and leaned in to place his order passing the man a crisp bundled stack of cash.

Now smiling he hopped down and straightened his jacket slinging his katana over his back once more,

"You want to know what it's like when I have fun? Fine." he stalked off towards one of the metal stairways that led up to the catwalks spanning above the large hall lined with single-bed rooms, rendezvousing with the blond wavy haired stripper he'd been watching on the other side of the room.

Spike caught the sound of a familiar voice up above him by the bar and buried his head further under his arms muttering,

"Please don't see me, please don't see me..." last thing he needed now was to have to babysit Faye again...

* * *

><p>The backdoor of Club Bebop pushed open.<p>

It was almost 8am on a Tuesday, with the sun fully up in the sky it was time to go home; Faye, Spike and Vicious stumbled out into the garbage strewn alley. To be more specific: Faye and Spike stumbled out into the garbage strewn alley – Vicious was being supported between the two, too inebriated to walk on his own.

"When did I say you could turn _the fucking _lights on?" With a growl Vicious tried to dislodge himself and go back into the cozy darkness they had just left.

"...Oh boy. Easy there... come on, it's 'go pass out' time. That's enough fun for one tonight." Spike, who was carrying his katana and overcoat, steered him back around in the right direction.

"Spike, you had better not be planning to dump him on my couch again..."

"I'm being nice enough to give you a ride home, Faye. Last time we left him in my trunk he disappeared with the car for a week and I had to take the damn bus, I'd rather not go through that again."

"Ugh! Why? He has a whole god damn garage full of nice cars to drive, that thing is _so_ ugly! Why didn't you just go take one of his retired racers or that shiny catty he souped up? I mean he's always using last-leg shit mobiles on the job anyways, it's obvious he doesn't NEED the nice ones. We could dump him in the back of one of them even! Or how about him just using his key for Montague's penthouse and crashing on _his_ couch, or anything else? Also, exactly when is he going to get his own damn –" Faye was cut off by Vicious swinging his arm off of Spike shoulder to grab onto the side of her face to smash his lips against hers and started forcing his tongue into her mouth as the two of them stumbled up against the brick alley wall next to a dumpster.

"Come on Faye...don't you want me in your _bed_ this time?" He licked the side of her face causing her to shudder.

"Oh my god **NO**! Spike! H–!" Spike could only give a heavy sigh and face palm as Faye frantically tried to tear him off as he started molesting her mouth again. Vicious grimaced, stopping all of the sudden... then promptly turned and started to throw up behind the dumpster. "...that's gross." She grimaced herself accepting the menthol cigarette Spike was holding out for her with the same disdain she'd had all night, it was one of the last in Johnathan's pack, retreating down the alley to move out of Vicious' unpredictable reach.

"It would probably help if you tried eating food from time to time you know." Spike lit up his own non-menthol and casually moved to relieve himself between two dented metal garbage cans.

"Fuck that." Vicious got up on his feet and used the side of the dumpster for support as he did the same. "...gimme my bag, go home, I can find my own way."

Faye just rolled her eyes sitting on one of the large crates stacked near the end of the alley way, _men_.

"Yeah? You sure about that?"

Vicious grinned as he tucked away and started walking down the alley towards the back parking lot, hardly exhibiting the difficulties he'd had a moment ago; he clapped a hand on Spike's shoulder in passing...leaving something behind.

"Are you sure that deserves asking?"

Spike picked up Cyan's black thong from his shoulder and shook his head as he followed to unlock the car.

"I guess you have a point there, huh."


	4. Unfolding Drama

**Drama Unfolds...**

...Vicious had cloth wrapped the katana and traded the Red Dragon overcoat for a worn and slightly bloodied Alliance ground infantry coat. With duffel bag over his shoulder he'd pulled a cloak out and wrapped it about himself keeping the hood low as he neared his destination.

It was the base of a marble statue sitting between two underground tram vents, on cold days the heat washing up would blanket the area with thick steam, but even without that cover he knew that he was safer unconscious here then anywhere else... few criminals felt comfortable within a two block radius of the new Preventors Crime Bureau's headquarters let alone practically on their front door.

Vicious however, simply slid down into a heap between the massive stone lion's feet (^_~ ch1? Check guide in profile too.), blending in perfectly with the assortment of other homeless that sought refuge under it's watchful eyes. He stayed in that dreamless stupor throughout the increased bustling traffic and noise of the lunch hour. It was only much later that day, when the afternoon rush hour was beginning to subside that a FAR too familiar voice drew him back to awareness.

"What do you mean we should postpone it? Everything is on schedule, its not like there can be a possibility for a security threat with the boys all attending – Une, _my lady,_ there would simply be even _more_ difficulties to deal with! Really, what is it that makes you want to put off the ceremony so badly? Are you having second thoughts on the dress...?"

As a pleading Trieze Khushrenada passed by following behind a sour faced and determinedly walking Lady Une, Vicious lifted a hand to run his fingers across the letters embroidered over the Alliance coat's breast pocket... _GODRICK 8_

* * *

><p><strong>Shock wave impact<strong>** AC175**

* * *

><p><em>...Now reader for a bit of narration, for there is another story that needs to be told as we will continue to look in on all that which is going on now. The story would be the story of Susan. Yes, THAT Susan from the Episode Zero Fan-Spoof translation – anyone want to pick up exact credit come let me know because I firmly believe that it is absolutely worthy of all praise (yet am thoroughly too lazy to look up the original author).<em>

_Except this is not a gender confused 'extra' just desperate to have a name and purpose other then dying unceremoniously._

_Susan is a woman..._

…_and in AC 197 is about 33 years old, has a job in an office from 8-3 and recently became a single mother. She and her daughter, Danielle friend of Marimaya, live in a small split-level white house, with a green grassy lawn in a white picket fence neighborhood._

_It just so happens to be the very same house that she grew up in. To understand why this random extra character has been given so much EXTRA attention, you have to understand how absolutely ORDINARY that so very fateful Friday in AC175 really was; And nothing makes anything more frightfully ordinary then a 12 year old girl's diary..._

AC 175

Dear Buu Bear,

That mystery boy? I didn't just see him again today... I SPOKE to him! ^_^ He's really shy but up close he has really pretty gray eyes to go with that strange white hair of his! I still haven't found out his name, but his little sister said they didn't have names, but I think she was just playing a game.

They were passing by the yard, so I took a BIG breath and tossed my big bouncy ball over the fence and out into the road. Sure enough he brought back! ^_^ He didn't really say much at all, but his sister was really talkative and was really excited when I said she could come play with me any time. We had a lot of fun playing keep-off-the-ground with the ball. Since they wouldn't tell me their names I made ones up for them, Victor and Danielle.

I hope she does come back tomorrow... and brings her big brother with her. ^_^

Love,

Suzi

...end of first entry...

… "Victor" had just gotten back to their run down apartment from taking a walk through the neighborhoods with "Danielle".

Today that girl he'd always caught staring at them actually invited them into her little white picket fortress; with it's perfectly trimmed lawn and picturesque flower boxes under the windows. He couldn't stop thinking about her, about _that_ question... the one he never had an answer for, and probably never would from how his life was going... '_What's your name?_'

He pushed the door open to the bathroom where Paul was working kneeling over the tub, on his arm the head of a Blue Snake tattoo peaked out from under the rolled up sleeve of his white lab technician's coat.

"The fridge is empty."

"Yeah? You check behind the beer? Put some more ice in this cooler." Paul grunted as squirt of blood hit his face.

"There isn't any any beer either, just empties." he picked up the bag of ice and carefully add layer of ice over the two kidneys already inside. He tried not to think about the violently shaking white knuckled hands gripping at the constraints visible above the lip of the tub.

"FUCK! Well you'd better run this over to the shack quick before the money dies," Paul laid the rest of the harvest into the cooler and dumped a few more handfuls of bloody ice over the top before locking the lid shut. "I'll take care of food, tell Marco to bring around some more cases of brew. Don't you dare go spending my money you little fucker. You got 10 minutes, MOVE IT!" He shoved the comparatively huge cooler into the little kid's arms before lighting up a cigarette to take a break before clean up.

The white haired boy had never needed to be told anything twice.

...That night they had extremely tender steak for dinner. 'Danielle' barely touched it and went to sleep early instead.

* * *

><p>AC 175<p>

Dear Buu Bear,

Victor and Danielle came by to play again! ^_^

I'm starting to wonder if it really isn't a game she's playing? Neither of them are going to school and Victor is about as old as me, but doesn't even know how to read! Or write! I felt so bad for him I insisted he let me teach him! I've got to find where mommy put all of my old school work, but I'm sure we can do it! He got the whole alphabet in one afternoon! Danielle still needs to practice some more though.

Love,

(Ms.) Suzi

…. '_J, k, l, m, n...n...p?...no... Oh, o, p, q –'_

He was cut off mid thought as the large snake he had by the tail sensed his distraction and suddenly whipped around to take a strike at him, it's hood flaring. The young boy deftly slapped its head aside, then wrenched on its tail as he dashed back to force it to face towards its real opponent slowly slithering towards the both of them. The sound of the crowd was deafening in the underground amphitheater owned by the Blue Snake syndicate.

"What the FUCK happened to keeping on the strike, boy! Keep that _fucking _thing _fucking _focused!" Paul screamed out as he slammed his fists down on the ring's railing in front of him, before pulling at his face, "Ugh, I swear I'm gonna beat the focus back into that kid if he makes it through this set!"

"Geez Paul, you ever try feeding the little sack of bones?"

He laughed at that,

"Feed him? Why waste my money like that? Won't put meat on that kid's bones, last time I gave him food it all went to his dick! Turn around and the fucking freak is almost bigger then me!"

Paul's friend raised an eyebrow,

"Really?" he chuckled, "Maybe you should be keeping him better after all... he could make you some good money."

"What? You talking about Cardinal? I think I'd have to be pretty broke before I'd go and ruin the kid." he shook his head.

"No, no, no... I was thinking maybe something a little bit more... theatrical, if you know what I mean?"

"I'm listening..." Paul grinned at him, "How much would my cut be?"

"Depends... got one that's in the works, looking for someone to fill a part... but if he's any good we could always do a feature. You'd certainly be getting a good percent off of that. Always wanted to do a riff off that kiddie movie _'Prince Lucky the Magic Dog'_, ever seen it?"

"Can't say I have... but I like your thinking."

There was a roar as Paul's snake finally landed a solid strike and ended the round. The white haired kid let the ring handlers take over as he climbed up onto the railing to catch his breath before the next bout.

Paul waved the white towel signaling that he was withdrawing from the rest of match. The kid looked at him afraid and a little confused... his fear only grew more at the kindly smile Paul had as he clapped his hand on his shoulder.

"Hey kid... how about we go get some hamburgers and fries, huh?"

* * *

><p>...<em>At Suzi's house...<em>

Susan's mom bent over to retrieve the tray of chicken nuggets from the oven.

"Victor! What about this part here?"

The sound of the name he had been given broke the spell of the woman's teasing symmetrical bulges. Shifting uncomfortably he turned his attention back to the paragraph Suzi was pointing to in her workbook. Across the table his sister was carefully copying each of the letters in the alphabet on a sheet with a big red crayon.

"..._Caroline took her dog spot to the park. Playing with the f...fryz_..."

"Frisbee, F-Riz-Bee, you know? The plastic disk-thing you throw?"

"Yeah, sure... _Playing with the Frisbee was fun, until Caroline got it stuck in a tree._" He stopped to check if he was doing okay; Suzi's brightly beaming face responded plainly enough.

"See! You can read anything, now you just need to learn more words!" She hopped up out of her chair and went around the table, "And how about you Danielle? Almost got all 26?"

"...wait, I thought there were 52?" 'Danielle' flipped her light brown hair back over her shoulder wearing a big grin as Suzi laughed.

"Only if you count upper AND lower case."

"Okay! That's enough studying you three!" Her mom came over with a large plate piled high with the hot nuggets, ketchup on the side, and a platter with an array of fresh vegetables. "I made extra since you two are always such good eaters, make sure you try to eat some greens too... Danielle, I'm looking at you! Don't make Victor have to finish them all this time."

'Danielle' blushed at the attention and opted for a carrot instead, following her brother's example and waiting for the morsels of breaded chicken to cool.

"Thank you Suzi's Mom, it's really nice of you to invite us in."

Suzi's mother laughed lightly. At first she had been a bit uneasy about the odd pair that kept showing up to play with her daughter; but 'Victor' with his strange not-even-blond-white hair and polite mannerisms had grown on her. The two certainly seemed like they could use the extra food and Suzi had never been more avid about getting her homework done.

"It's nothing at all, really. Oh..!" she knelt down next to him and brushed his hair back from his temple, "Victor! Darling, have you been rough housing with the other boys again?" There was a nasty purple bruise and gash along his hairline.

"Y-yeah." He stuttered out not meeting her eye.

'Danielle' bit her lip, giving him a worried look from across the table; she had been terrified 'Victor' would never wake up after Paul had angrily hurled him into a wall the other night knocking him out cold.

"You need to keep a band-aid on that dear or it's going to get infected, maybe some ice would help that swelling too... Just wait a moment I have our first-aid box around here somewhere..."

"Hey Victor, maybe this weekend we can go to the library and make copies so you can keep working at home? Your mom's going to be really impressed with how smart you are now!"

He tried to match that same expression of intense happiness Suzi always had, just like he tried not to keep looking down her mother's blouse as she tended to the minor injury, but some things were just too much to ask for.


	5. Shockwave

_…more AC 175..._

They really should have stayed at the library like Suzi's mom had told them too, but the draw of the park across the street on such a warm and sunny day had been too strong. Besides with plenty of time until she returned to pick the three of them up, they were sure to be able to cover up the little excursion.

How could anything go wrong?

"Yo, what'cha doin' all by your little selves?" from near the basketball court a lanky sun-burnt teenager hanging out with his friends called out to them – the only thing the older guys seemed to have in common was a mean look, matching dude-rags and bandanas. "Hey! I'm talking to you cuties!"

The two girls were on the swings while 'Victor' was perched on the nearby picnic table watching over them; he glared at the heckler and bristled as he approached with a lackey or two in tow.

The teenaged show-off stopped a short distance away grinning stupidly,

"You girlies wanna play with us? Those are some awfully pretty little pink shoes..."

Suzi tucked her feet back trying to hide her pink sparkly gel sandals from view blushing terribly, she and 'Danielle' had stopped swinging.

"Hey... leave them alone. They're with me." the white haired boy slid off the picnic table and stalked over to block them getting any closer.

"Brother don't...!" Anyone could see the huge size difference; For 'Danielle' the scenario was all too familiar and usually accompanied by the same outcome at home.

"Oh? What was that you little punk? Did you just tell me what the fuck to do?" the guy feigned utter shock, playing up his little performance for his friends.

"Yeah. I said: Go, the fuck, away. Why are you picking on little girls anyways?"

"Maybe 'cause I'm looking for little tough guys like you? Maybe, I don't want to go away? What'cha going to do about it?" the older boy moved down to get face to face with him, irked by those unblinking colorless eyes behind the white veil of hair.

The little kid said nothing, but flicked out a four inch pocket knife keeping it down and close to his side continuing to glare back defiantly; who ever this guy was he certainly wasn't Paul.

"Ha! You seeing this shit? Kid thinks he wants to fight! You think your something big or something?" the teen pulled forth a .45 caliber handgun and 'Victor' didn't flinch as he pressed the barrel to his temple, "You really want to mess with me little fucker?" On the swings both girls were riveted with wide-eyed fear, but this wasn't the first time the little kid had dealt with a gun.

No one saw till after the fact that 'Victor' had slammed both his hands together on the older guy's wrist; one driving the knife deep in the gap between the two bones, snatching hold of the gun as it fell from his limp grasp then slamming the action back.

Now with a bullet actually loaded into the chamber he turned it on the profusely bleeding would-be intimidator who was howling in pain and quickly back pedaling trying to figure out what had just bit him.

"Go away." 'Victor' tugged his t-shirt collar aside exposing the tattoo of a blue serpent forming a figure-eight by biting it's own tail.

"Shit man!"

"Lets get the fuck out of here!"

"Dude that kid's Snake goods! I'm outta here!"

They scattered from the scene.

'Victor' relaxed for a second before something slammed into him from behind...

...Suzi had her arms wrapped around him in a hug and was crying.

"Hey, hey... Everything is ok Suzi," he twisted around in her grasp to return the gesture, holding her just as tight...but careful to mind the loaded gun still in his bloodied hand. "Lets just go back now, okay?"

'Danielle' came over and picked the knife out of the grass where it had fallen when the older teen had lurched backwards.

"But Victor! We have to go tell the police!"

"No! We don't need to tell anyone! They're gone, we're fine. Promise me Suzi, promise me you won't tell your mom or anyone about this, okay?"

Suzi sniffed and stared deep into those desperate, yet calm, colorless eyes behind that ever present white veil of hair.

She promised.

Back at the library he told her to wait with his sister while he disappeared for a short while...the gun was gone when he returned.

* * *

><p><em>...remember Cyan...?<em>

She was standing, he couldn't remember ever seeing her out of bed and on her own two feet like that. Her long, disheveled, wavy, strawberry blond, tresses were beautiful even with the thick build up of grizzly knots. She was also arguing with Paul, another unnatural phenomenon, even if the tears in her crystal blue blood-shot eyes were not.

'Victor' clutched his sister closer, trying his hardest to shut her ears and protect them from the venom ripping through the air.

"What the _fuck_ are you even doing out here arguing with me you mother fucking cunt? Go back to bed!"

"I'm not going _back to bed,_ Paul! You went and gave me too fucking much for too fucking long, now it doesn't work worth a fuck any more! Deal with it!"

"I've had enough of this shit! You use more money then you make with that beat in hole of yours! I mean fuck, your not even worth cutting up." to prove the point Paul pulled out his 9mm and put a slug in her chest, dropping her into a heap on the floor. He grabbed her hair and dragged her onto the rug in the middle of the room before she had a chance to bleed out on the floor too much. Kicking the kitchen table and chairs off the corner of it, he looked over to where her son was still huddled on the sidelines, "What the fuck are you waiting for kid? Get the other fucking end and help me carry this shit!"

The kid left 'Danielle' where she was, scurrying to guide the other side as Paul rolled his mother in the carpet then hoisted it over one shoulder to carry it out of the apartment and to the stairs down the hall...

In the dead end alley outside, Paul heaved the bundle into the dumpster before rummaging for a can of gasoline kept out of sight; shoving it into the kid's hands with a book of matches.

The white haired boy climbed up the large metal box's side and tried not to look as he emptied the contains over the trash pile inside; his eye's welling up with tears from the sting of the fumes. He didn't have time to think about the consequences of striking the match before the hot puff of igniting fumes forced him to drop it; the toxic smoke that washed up sending him reeling back to fall to the ground coughing.

Instead of alleviating his dizziness, taking breaths of the fresh air only brought on a _vicious_ headache. Paul picked up the gas can that had clattered to the ground with him & tossed it into the growing fire.

"Come on kid, lets go." he started back towards the door in.

Feeling sick and clutching his stomach the kid slowly got to his feet to follow, but was stopped after the first step by a sound...

...you know when you throw plastic, or a sappy piece of wood, or a juicy hot dog...in a campfire... that high pitched, keening, screeching, wail of gasses expanding and escaping from a melting ooze?

...it was that sound, that vicious, sound; he told himself. It sputtered and choked out before he reached the door where Paul waited with an impatient slap upside the head.

* * *

><p><em>...it was late that night...<em>

...when Suzi was startled by the sound of her window sliding open.

Quickly she relaxed as 'Victor' slipped into her bedroom, a smile growing on her lips as she threw back her covers and rushed over to give him a hug. This wasn't the first night he'd stopped by her room to quietly study by flashlight... but even she could tell something was different this time.

Sensing it wasn't something he wanted to tell her, she sat leaning against him and dozed off while he finished the homework she had started that afternoon; he'd gotten very good at copying her handwriting.

"Suzi..." he whispered.

"Yes Vic?" she woke up a bit more.

"I don't know how I can repay you for all of this..." he put the pencil down, finished with the work.

"It's fine, I should be paying _you _for doing my school work all the time now." she giggled, quietly.

"No. Suzi," He turned to face her and stare pleadingly into her hazel eyes, "I don't know how I'm supposed to repay you for everything... but I want to try... Please, can I?"

"Okay, I guess so...?" She had no idea what he was talking about as he leaned forwards and connected his lips to hers, one hand running through her honey blond hair...

* * *

><p>…<em>Walking back to the apartment later...<em>

'Victor' was so utterly consumed by replaying what had just transpired in Suzi's room that he was hardly weary to the ever lurking dangers of night.

So absorbed, he didn't even realize one of the men in the group he was passing had been trying to talk to him; until the man, with dark short-cropped hair dressed in a Black and Gold tassel trim overcoat, reached out and snatched hold of his shirt.

"I _said,_ where the hell do you think your going at this time of night, kid?" He tossed 'Victor' to the ground in the midst of his associates, also dressed in black formal wear... one or two sporting a Red Dragon pin on their lapel.

Now he really was in trouble as another of the group caught sight of the blue inked skin on his collar bone peaking out from under his old stretched out shirt,

"Looks like we're close to a nest after all!" the guy pulled back the cloth to further expose the labeling Blue Snake mark for the others.

"Leave me alone!" he desperately tried to wrench away and run for it; but considering he was surrounded by nine fully grown professional criminals, all strapped with concealed firearms, there wasn't much hope.

"Why the hell should we? Where's the goods at kid?" the first man, obviously in charge from his fancier dress, was asking the questions again.

"I'm not on a job okay! I was just out for the night, there aren't any goods around here!" he felt embarrassed at his own fear.

"Yeah, You expect us to believe that? Maybe I should just do you a favor and waste your miserable lying ass..." There was a gleam of gunmetal as the man half drew his pistol.

"Fine! Do it! Just leave me the dumpster at the end of that alley over there." His gray eyes glared fiercely back with honesty.

The man frowned pausing, looking to his comrades for clues,

"Why that one?"

"Because my mother's in there." the boy didn't even blink.

...as they hauled out the charred remains of the funeral roll, the gruesome find of her contorted body proved his claims. He didn't know it at the time, but the small squad of Red Dragons had found exactly what they'd been sent to look for.

"Holy shit..." one of them crossed himself noticing a tattoo still visible on her upper thigh, of a heart being cut into an "M" and a "V" by a red and white twisted candy cane. "...that **is** fucking Sin Dee Cane!"

Their leader signaled to his men to release the boy, looking up at the buildings on either side as they started to work on re-wrapping the body to take with them. 'Victor' dusted himself off and straightened his tattered cloths.

"You just let us deal with this," the man said as he walked over and gave him a small card he'd produced from his pocket... all black with metallic red type detailing the business information for a night club on Jazz street. "If you ever want to make a name for yourself, just come and ask to see Montague."

The white haired boy was left alone in the dark alley as they took his mother back where she belonged.


	6. Systematic Regrets

RE-did the format of the last three chapters... CHECK the first section of the Chapter before this... says people missed it... Tho not you Cythn, I'm sure. LoL

* * *

><p><em>...<em>**Systematic Regrets**_..._AC 175...

"Victor!" Suzi's mom had come out to check on the children in the yard and discovered the young boy trying to grit through and bear the pain from his broken right collar bone, sitting to the side while the girls played. "Please, you must let me look at that! Do your parents know about this?"

'Victor' didn't have the choice of resisting her, the pain from the injury was causing waves of nausea. He'd warned his sister a thousand times to not go using their 'names' with Paul around, but it was like telling a goldfish to keep hidden from a cat.

"Yeah, they said it would be fine..." it was a hard lie to tell.

"Fine? Darling, a doctor needs to see this!" the astonished expression on her face told him she wasn't believing it.

"Pau...my father is a doctor, he used to be a surgeon." until the malpractice lawsuits landed him working as a butcher for the Snakes, that is.

"No, no, no..." She was shaking her head; swallowing and continuing softer, "Victor, you know what? It's alright, I understand. Just give me a minute to make a phone call dear, and we'll see about getting that fixed up. You don't have to tell me what happened and your father doesn't have to be involved, okay? Suzi, why don't you go up to your room and get that sling out of the closet from when you broke your arm. That will be a big help until the doctors can see whats wrong."

...Suzi's mom kept an eye on the children out the window as Suzi helped 'Victor' into the sling, when the call finally connected, "...Hello, child services?"

* * *

><p><em>...At the Hospital...<em>

'Victor' didn't like waiting in lobby with all the other sick and injured, nor the fact that most of the staff was dressed in the same kind of white lab coat Paul would always have him take to the cleaners; usually soaked in blood. He tried to focus on Suzi's hand wrapped around his instead. At least 'Danielle' was simply fascinated by all the bustle and activity going on as people were taken in for treatment or checked out.

Eventually a nurse came out to lead 'Victor' to an examination room where they could do an x-ray and take samples, Suzi was encouraged by her mother to go with him while she stayed with 'Danielle'...

..."Whoa, that looks like a break to me even without the x-rays! But why don't we get an idea how much healing its already done..." The doctor snapped the plastic sheets into position on the light box on the wall. "Yeah this does not look fresh, how did this happen little buddy?" The glare that was waiting for him when he turned to regard 'little buddy' forced a nervous laugh out of the man.

"I tripped going down the stairs too fast." 'Victor's gray eyes didn't blink as they continued to grill the man through his white veil of hair.

"Victor..." Suzi noticed how he was putting the doctor ill at ease as the man was hesitant to approach, "You don't need to be nervous, its going to stop hurting once he puts it back where it should be." she pleaded with him.

'Victor' closed his eyes and freed the man from the death stare turning his head to the side to rest his chin on her shoulder, Suzi's mom had been kind enough to bring them there after all. It was no pain-free experience as the doctor re-broke the fracture point and put everything where it should be, yet 'Victor' barely gave a yelp; the doctor didn't need to give him a new sling since he already had Suzi's...

"Well, they should be finishing up talking to your sister in the other room..." the doctor was filling out the chart.

'Victor' looked up sharply,

"What! Where is she?"

"Hey, calm down kid! It's just the social service workers, they're the ones paying for this you know. Hey!"

'Victor' had hopped down from the exam table and bolted out the door, desperately looking in each doorway he passed until... there.

'Danielle' was in another exam room sitting on a similar table with a lollipop, Suzi's mother sitting next to her and two smiling business people talking to her; a man with a note pad, the woman with a clipboard and forms.

"Oh, Victor isn't it?" the woman turned to smile pleasantly at him as he stood in the doorway, "Do come in."

"Victor! Victor! They said we can have a new mommy and daddy!" 'Danielle' was boiling over from all the attention she'd been getting. 'Victor' hesitantly entered the room to get closer to his sister.

"What are you talking about?" he looked suspiciously at the strangers who'd given her the candy.

"Victor, these people work with the government to help others in need, especially children. It might seem a little scary at first, but these people can make sure you find a home where someone can take care of you two properly." Suzi's mom stroked a hand over his white hair. Suzi had found the right door as well.

"We already have a home; we don't need any help..." he wondered what she'd told them.

"Victor... we understand your mother left you two with your father recently? Is that correct?" The man asked.

"She moved out... she said she'd send for us when she got a new place." 'Victor' wondered if that was too much to add.

"Oh... I see... Danielle here didn't seem to know where she went. Paul is your father, correct? Do you know his last name?" The man continued to pry.

"No."

"Victor..." it was the lady again, "Please, we see these kinds of cases all the time. The way that Danielle and you are being treated is not normal, and is not what is considered acceptable parenting. It might be hard for you to accept, but the biggest favor you can do yourself and Danielle here is to not try and protect this man who's been mistreating you. Is there anything you can tell us to help us know who this 'Paul' is? A last name? The address you live at? Where he works?"

"I don't know anything. What do you mean we can have a new mom and dad? You can't be re-born." 'Victor' gripped 'Danielle's hand preparing to run for it, they really didn't need to get into anymore trouble than they were already risking.

The two Social Service workers chuckled, the woman continued,

"Well really you would be put into a temporary care facility with other children, and then you'd be assigned to a foster home until your either adopted by a family or turn 18. Unfortunately, normally in a sibling situation there is an obligation to keep the two together... however, considering that you two aren't even half siblings I can't really make any promises. The fact is that people are more likely to adopt girls, but you will be able to stay in contact. If you did share at least one parent then we would have no problem pinpointing who your real parents might be or maybe what happened to your certificates... but since the DNA doesn't match at all I'm afraid the system is drawing a complete blank."

"Mommy..." It was Suzi by the door. "Can't we adopt them?" her eyes were wide and pleading, this was more important then a puppy.

"Sweetie I'm sorry... we just barely have enough money to take care of ourselves dear... Don't worry I'm sure Victor an –" She was cut off there as 'Victor' yanked 'Danielle' off the table and knocked past Suzi to drag his sister along in search of the nearest exit.

"WAIT! COME BACK!"

"VICTOR! DANI!"

The white haired boy was deft to all of it as he continued to pull his sister behind him. They had to double back and hide to evade the attendants that immediately took up the search for them before they found an open door out and escaped back into the gray world outside the starched white halls; where everything was so perfectly delineated...

* * *

><p>...Eventually the two of them had to stop to catch their breath in an ally near the retail district. Despite aggravating the now lessened pain in his right shoulder, he pulled 'Danielle' against him in a one armed hug, tears dripping from his blood-shot gray eyes,<p>

"It's not true... what they said isn't true... you are my sister, they don't know what they're talking about. We don't need their facilities, I can take care of us. Besides, they just don't understand... we can't leave, Paul _will_ find us..."

"But...But how do you know that... They... they said we'd get new shoes and toys... and we'd get to go to school just like Suzi!" 'Danielle' was crying too.

"No! It might not be tomorrow or next week, but one day they'll find us! Remember the mark, Sis? Forever is forever... that is..." he trailed off.

"Until we go join mommy... right...?" she sniffed.

'Victor' never realized how true the lie was,

"Right... until we go join mommy... in her little house with a white fence, just like Suzi's... just like you always wanted..." his hand tightened around her hair as if it would meld into a permanent tether. Hearing an extra loud group of buoyant shoppers pass the entrance to the alleyway gave him an idea, "Hey... Danielle? Do you think you could wait here? I'll be right back..."

She nodded and shrunk back between a pile of crates and a recycling bin to stay out of sight till he returned...

When he did he had a brand new pair of Pink sparkly gel sandals, just like Suzi's, tucked into his sling along with two energy bars and a pop-tart pack. That did make 'Danielle' cheer up a little, even if she'd have to keep them hidden at their secret spot – a overgrown strip down near the canal where a few dilapidated cars and some other junk had been left.

No matter how hard 'Victor' tried though, it seemed Paul always tried harder to make everything worse...

* * *

><p><em>...A Brief Visit Back to AC 197...<em>

Vicious was at work at Fortè again, he'd fallen into his typical serene trance... or at least that's what everyone hoped... against hope.

Joyce jumped in surprise when 'Vee' was standing directly behind her after she'd picked up a set of steaming prepared plates for a table, nearly dropping all of them.

"What are you doing." his gray eyes were even more intense when his white hair was pulled back leaving them no screening veil.

"I'm taking these to the table, it's the right one, I'm sure of it..." her voice always slid up an octave when she had to talk to him.

"No," 'Vee' took the ticket from where she'd left it with the corner tucked under one of the plates on the tray to confirm his suspicions. "This is one of Rebecca's tables. This is the ninth order of her's you've taken tonight. Where is she."

"Please Vee... She's having a really rough night, she just asked me to help cover a bit so she could take a break... it's okay! Really! We're not falling behind!" Joyce bit her lip, hoping her friend wasn't going to have any more drama to deal with tonight.

Vicious looked past the girl to the door to the back ally, he had his suspicions as to the answer he was really after and wordlessly headed that way; Ignoring the timid pleas behind him. Sure enough Rebecca was crouched down with her back to the wall crying.

"It's dangerous to hang around back here; Dark alleys are no place for tears." his low measured voice, and the sound of a lighter flaring to life to ignite a cigarette, caused her to spring to her feet, before she crumpled back down to her knees seeing who it was approaching; as if begging his forgiveness.

"I'm sorry! Please, just give me a minute! I'll be back to work!" she sobbed.

"What." He crouched down in front of her, the smoke being pulled away by a city-traffic breeze.

"I said, I can get back to work... unless you just want me to go..." she swallowed hard searching his face for a hint of anger, but saw none.

"No... What is wrong." he just wasn't very good at asking questions.

"I... My mother... The bill for the health insurance got lost somehow so our coverage got dropped and we only found out because my father got in an accident..." fresh tears were starting to fall. "Now they're refusing to pay for a 80,000$ operation because it happened while he wasn't insured..." Rebbeca could only stare at the ground in between the two. "...we can't even get a loan for that..."

The smoke billowed out into the gap before being diluted beyond recognition.

"You smoke?"

"No..." she was a little confused.

"Then take another 5 inside so you can clean up properly. After closing, meet me in the back lot by the silver Buick Park Ave.; Go, now." he took a long drag. It took her a moment but she broke out of her shock and hopped-to obeying his orders.

Vicious took the time to finish the rest of the rolled tobacco stick before heading back to work himself...

...After the restaurant had closed, sure enough, he found her waiting by the trunk of his designated vehicle for that night.

"So what am I doing here..." Rebecca was looking around nervously. "My mom is on her way to pick me up..."

"That's fine." He had pulled his hair loose and was unbuttoning his sous chef over-shirt... then undid his white pants, taking them off... revealing a pair of black slacks, and a black button up shirt with black tie. He hadn't gotten soaked in blood before hand this time so he'd kept his normal cloths on underneath.

If Rebecca had any doubts that this was a bad idea, they were gone when he unlocked the trunk to reveal an assortment of guns and other weaponry mixing in amongst a stuffed pile of duffel bags on one side, black garbage bags on the other.

Vicious tucked the uniform into a duffel bag slightly different then the rest, before he proceeded to unzip one of the others and virtually dump half its contents of bundled cash out into the trunk. Rifling through the bag to get a feel for what was left, he added a few more back in before zipping it up and plopping it into the young lady's arms.

"I... uhh... I don't know if they take... uhhh... cash." She was almost shaking as he slammed the trunk shut, locking the stockpile away.

"They do, trust me. It's all there." He got up and sat on the trunk lid keeping a lookout for trouble. He lit another cigarette.

"Is... it fake? Where would I say I got it?" The dilemma of accepting the cash considering the glimpsed source raged in her mind.

"No; Your co-worker."

"I... I don't know how we can pay you back... though... is this like, mob money? Don't you need this?" Rebecca was a little more frightened then ever of the shady sous chef who was the feature of many a rumor... Any she heard didn't even come close to this!

"I have more. Don't worry about it." he smoked away, not showing any emotion or even glancing at her – or the bundle of cash he was just giving away.

"...th...thank you, I guess?" the longer she held it, the tighter she gripped it and the more real it seemed to become... she was almost feeling dizzy from the weight lifting from her shoulders.

"It's not your fault the system is broke."

"Oh, I guess so..."

It was a long 5 minutes before her mother showed up, the two stayed in an awkward silence waiting. Her mother called out her thanks for waiting with her daughter, to which Vicious only gave a slight nod and raise of his cigarette, before the two ladies headed off for what Rebecca's mother expected to be a hellishly long night of watching her husband struggle for his life...

"Wasn't that the cook you always said was so mean?" her mother asked.

"Yeah... I mean, I guess he's okay. He just doesn't like when things get screwed up..." she was reconsidering a lot of her perspective on the man.

"Oh..." her mother gave a heavy sigh, "Is that your over night bag? I thought you said you forgot it?"

"I...did..." Rebecca clutched the bag tighter. "Mom... Um... what would you say if... well... uhh... my coworker... all of them actually, and the owner too... they um... donated the money."

"What?" Her mom had come to a stop light and looked at her puzzled.

"It's all here... 80,000$ right?"

Her mother's jaw dropped as Rebecca opened the bag so she could see inside.

* * *

><p>Like I said... probably 24 hours or so and I'll have the finishing section of AC175 (so no more of that afterwards, all 197) and more of other stuff will be almost done...<p> 


	7. Desolation City

****Desolation City... ac175 ****

YAY! After this is the actual start of the REAL plot that actually made me go... Huh... I should publish that online...

Yea, then I was like shoot, Now I have to write "By The Roadway" to explain what happened before this... and TPoYI to explain what happened before that... AND THEN STILL needed what? 9 Chapters? to explain the set up of who the characters have become for this little ride? If you were wondering... yeah that kinda sums up what it's like talking to me in R/L, I was hoping writing this stuff would fix that X3 ooops.

I kinda have left out a lot of details... mostly because I didn't want to drag people through the angst too much... its just kinda there, an there IS more, but I figure it's better off sticking to the basics so people don't get confusion head rushes from info overload.

Oh and sorry Cynth, this is kinda angsty annnndddd might make you cry... but don't worry things end well...! or at least better...! or at least in a way that might make you smile? Revenge is finally had at least! And it WILL trail into the start of the ac197 plot, which hopefully will make you smile! Things are gonna get fun after this! But get a tissue box, or roll of toilet paper...anything will do.

Assigned Reading: '**Six Hundred and Sixty Six' & NOW 'Epilogue Of By The Roadway'**... this is really what THAT was all about. Yeah I give homework too =P

* * *

><p><em>...the Last Straw...<em>

The sun was just coming up and with it came a morning chill.

'Victor' tried to wrap his arms tighter around his sister, laying on the bare wood floor under the ragged blanket they shared. She'd been sick lately and the cold wasn't good for her...

Something was wrong though... his eyes opened slowly.

"Sis...? Sis..." he tried to shake her gently, but everything started feeling even more wrong, "Danielle..." he dared whisper.

He pushed himself up on his (right) elbow, his collar bone had healed by now, and craned to look at her face since her back was to him; his consciousness becoming aware of the acrid smell of urine and something else uniquely...death.

Her face was dead still, eyes closed. He lay his head upon hers, (left) cheek to cheek, and tried her name again; his lips practically brushing against her ear as if it could breath life back into her despite the unmistakable cold that had already settled into her ashen features pressed against his.

'Victor' squeezed his eyes tight and fought against the pain that was stabbing through his core. It passed leaving him numb and his eyes bloodshot but barely rimmed with stinging moisture...

...a smile even began to curl from the corners of his mouth...

...purposely stretching and reaching out and up towards his ears... morphing and wrinkling his cheeks with its curving splice; an almost unholy light shone through the unstained-glass disks of his eyes... (_((That, smile, from _that _CB episode.)))_

"...tell mommy I miss her." he placed a kiss upon 'Danielle's cheek before getting up and pulling the blanket up over her completely.

He went in the main room and got down one of the less cracked mugs and filled it with hot water from the tap, before sitting at the table to wait for the inevitable... Paul waking up.

"I thought I told you I wanted the little wench doing floors today..." Paul yawned emerging from his bedroom and not seeing the girl at work.

"She's dead."

"What?" Paul stormed into the next room.

He stared down at the slight trails of vapor rising off the waters surface through his white veil of hair, undisturbed by the sound of boot to flesh in the other room – His sister...No... Danielle, wasn't there any more. (((^_~ _the quotes drop for a reason! But yeah you'll need a few more tissues, bad part not done yet._)))

Paul came back out and slammed his fists down on the table in frustration,

"GOD DAMN IT! It's tomorrow, I can't risk sending notice without the amount in full! Now what the hell am I supposed to do!" Paul growled sitting and pulling at his own hair as his head hung between his arms propped on the table by their elbows. His eyes flicked up to regard the boy, his last resource and unpaid accomplice, still blankly zoning out on the ripples that were jostling the water's surface.

A smile grew on Paul's face... a very different smile then the one that had been upon 'Victor's shortly before, but just as sinister and frightening in it's own way... "Maybe I should give Cardinal a call back this time..."

…_How you do onto others..._

...'Victor' barely had pulled his pants back up when the urge to vomit finally became too much for him and sent him bolting from the bed.

Having no food in his stomach was probably the only reason it held off so long, something that was clear as he dry heaved nothing but a foamy yellowed mucus onto the corner before collapsing beside the puddle exhausted. Something light and papery spewed across his face followed by the thwack of a wax sealed formal envelope hitting flat and sliding down to the floor.

Paul was leering over him,

"Get that to Fawkes Ave, buy yourself a hot dog..." Paul snorted cruelly before dropping his shirt over his face as well, "...and clean that up."

* * *

><p><em>...to Suzi's house... a last goodbye..?<em>

Suzi was swinging on the new swing set her parents had bought her as reconciliation for the 'hospital incident' having driven off her two best_est_, and very in need, friends. Truly it hadn't so much lifted her ensuing depression, as it at least given her a place where she could get lost re-imagining that eventful day in the park... with her hero... Her Victor.

She'd gotten so lost in these imaginings... that she stared an awful long time at 'Victor' trying to get her attention from behind a bush just out side the white picket fence. Then her eyes went wide realizing that he was in fact THERE! She leaped from the wide belt-like seat and raced to the gate to escape the yard to join her... friend.

"Victor! I'm so sorry! They didn't mean it! They just wanted to help, I thought I'd never see you ever again!" Suzi glued her arms around him, half expecting to suddenly wake up from a dream.

"It's okay Suzi, I know. I know your mom wanted to help... it... it's okay now though. I wanted to come tell you, myself..." he returned the gesture glad she wasn't hugging him lower, or she might have discovered the hidden .45 handgun _was _in fact tucked into the back of his pants that he'd fetched from it's hiding place at the secret spot. "...she...she's okay... Danielle, I mean... she went to be with my mom."

Suzi stared up at him with her doe like hazel eyes.

"But what about you, Victor? Your not gonna stay with that mean man are you? Or..." she looked away and hugged him tighter, "...are you saying...your going too?"

"Yeah... I'm sorry Suzi... I'm gonna... I'm gonna go... help Paul move out... and then I'm going to go away and be with my mom too. I'm told it's a nice place she has." That was in fact roughly his plan, just not the way she thought he meant.

"Well..." huge globular tears were already streaming down her face, "You can write to me now... you know my address, you can send me yours and maybe one day we can see each other again...!"

"I can't make any promises... I'm sorry..." if he was crying, he couldn't tell... or never remembered.

"But... Victor... you don't think you'll forget me, do you?" she was barely able to draw breath. He shook his head staring into her eyes and started to wipe what tears of hers away that he could.

"**Susan**. I'll never forget you. I just don't know if I'll be able to send you any mail... I'll try to be with you when I can." He had to pry her off of himself.

It was hard walking away leaving her crying crouched down with her back to the fence... knowing that it would hopefully be a long, long, long time before they were reunited... and that by that time he hoped Suzi would have grown into a very very old woman first.

He wasn't even going to deliver the envelope, he had waited long enough not to raise suspicion when he walked back in the door, maybe catch him unawares... he would go home, Shoot Paul, and then... and then...

The boy stopped at a crossroad, his hand had found the folded black business card in his right pocket...

_"If you ever want to make a name for yourself, just come and ask to see Montague."_

That is what the man had said, hadn't he?

He stared at the letters on the 2"x3" glossy rectangle... He stared at the words on the 2"x3" glossy rectangle... He suddenly felt the whole world turn upside down...

...he could read! He'd almost forgotten!

Paul never wanted him to learn... because Paul never wanted him... the boy pulled forth the envelope he'd been charged with... Never wanted him to be able to know what was really going on!

The library..! the copy machine..! If the original gets delivered to Fawkes Ave, even if he never returns to the apartment, Paul will still go through with whatever he's planning... Obviously whatever it is, is too important to him that he would dare raise any sort of suspicion that the deal would be compromised.

No matter how sure he was that Paul was a desperate man these days, the gamble was on whether or not it was important enough to someone else... like... A Red Dragon.

He started sprinting towards the temple like building that served as a public library to set his new plan in motion... just making it up as he went.

* * *

><p><em>...Club Bebop on Jazz Street...<em>

The usual crowd of day time stool warmers were doing their thing, drinking the day away in the 'front' bar of the Dragon's Lair.

An unusually white haired boy pushed open the front door and came in... he couldn't have been more then 13.

"Hey, You! Shorty! Unless you got one whopper of a fake ID, I suggest you march yourself back outside buddy! 18 and over only unless accompanied by an adult!" The barkeep hollered at the kid.

"...yeah this ain't some snake-pit dive bar..." one of the patrons muttered into his beer.

Walking over the kid pulled out a wrinkled business card and strained on his tip toes to slap it onto the bar,

"I want to see Montague." nervous looks were passed around, and many shifted uncomfortably. Dutifully the barkeep picked up the card, examining it, before putting it under the same black light they used to screen ID's; His expression only added to the sudden alertness in the room.

"This is one of Charles' cards... When'd you get this kid?" The man's rough, wire-haired covered face was stoney.

"I was never told a name, it was a while back. He said to come here and ask for Montague." the kid didn't blink staring up at him.

"Yeah? Then what's your name?" The bar keep leaned over the bar to get a better look at him... which allowed him to keep one hand on the butt of the gun under the counter.

"I... never got one." he still didn't blink.

"What do you mean? Everyone gets a name..." he trailed off.

Another man who had crept in closer behind added the transition,

"...Unless..." before the kid could react the man had him pinned to the ground face down and was holding the .45 the kid had tried to keep hidden. "...we got a little snake come sneaking around."

The kid struggled to get out from under him to no avail, unable to help the sick feeling that welled up from the familiar situation he started to choke and gag,

"Let me...go! I have things you... you... want!" he choked out.

A little taken aback by the kid's convulsions, Striker... as the kid would later learn was the man's name... who Spike would one day remind him of, with his tousled black hair and lanky build... did back off to let him up from the floor to cough the sudden spell of nausea off.

"And what kind of things would a little Snake have for Montague? Why don't you let us have a look?" the man teased.

"No! I'll only show it to Montague! I'm not stupid, I know how this works!" he was on his knees now but at least had some of his dignity back.

"Oh yeah? Really? If that's so then you'd know we'd never let someone wearing that mark in to see someone like Montague."

The kid flicked out a knife, the .45 as well as many other guns in the room were leveled at him, but he didn't attack. Instead he pulled back his shirt collar to the left and proceeded to flay the 2inch wide strip of skin with practiced ease.

Holding it out and letting it drop to the floor at the man's feet, the kid's face didn't show the slightest recognition of pain if he was even capable of feeling any,

"There is only one thing I want..."

* * *

><p><em>...in a dark underground concrete room, a day later...<em>

The kid stood next to the group that was Montague and his personal entourage as Paul was hauled into the room shackled, gagged and blind folded.

"So boy, it seems you're information proved accurate and profitable. How shall we hold him?" Montague himself asked, as Paul's blindfold was removed.

"Seat him. Tie him." The white haired boy stared stony faced back as Paul realized what had come to pass, he tried to spit out a stream of curses through the gag as he was forced down into a chair.

"Here," Montague held out a black sheathed katana for the kid to take, "Use this."

Accepting it the young boy approached the still hissing Paul, every bit the trapped and tied snake, and carefully pulled the gagging material from around his head tossing it away.

"What?" Paul spat, "You want to hear me tell you I'm sorry? You can forget it punk!"

The boy shook his head and uncovered the sharpened blade. He took his time to feel its weight, considering his options, then brought the tip up and rested it against Paul's throat causing him to swallow hard,

"No... I want to hear you scream and..." The kid's eyes hardened into slits behind the white veil of hair, "I want it to hurt when you do." he let the razor-edged metal slid into Paul's flesh and back out in a quick flash, not too much, just enough to pierce next to his voice box. Only a slight trickle of blood began to leak from the wound; More to Montague and his men, "I'll need a hot iron too..."

The boy knocked the chair onto its back then held the blade against both of the man's knees, just under the caps, sliding it to the side and pushing up and under them. Paul's wheezing moans were ignited into full-on screams.

Montague... had not expected this. A warm smile and a twinkle in his gray eyes,

"I think we can provide you with even more then that..."

A name was forming in his mind... a perfect name... a beautiful name... only such a thing would be fitting for this newest, and youngest member of their extensive crime clan. Something that would do the Great Dragon itself honor to add to its ranks... He certainly had plenty of time to think of it.

It was eventually necessary to call in a table and chairs so that he could continue to watch the brutal spectacle unfold as he dinned and saw to papers that needed reviewing; the emaciated boy was lost in his trance as the man who had tortured his existence was slowly turned into a living display of all his inner workings.

For three days it continued on, the boy never ceasing from his labors, Montague hardly missing a moment of the sadistic dream come true – every moment of it as much a warning as a tribute to calculated rage.

He was there when fatigue finally swayed the young boy's limbs, causing his hands to slip and finally severed a vital vessel. The sudden outpouring of blood was like a slap of warmth across the kid's face & he was barely able to wipe it from his eyes before he slumped into a deep unconsciousness...

* * *

><p>…<em>when he awoke...<em>

He was some where warm... and soft... and... the boy threw himself from the bed and skittered back against the nearest wall panting from the fright.

"Well... I guess I don't have to ask if your awake..." Striker wasn't even looking at him, his eyes glued to the TV that was muted with subtitles flashing across the bottom...

...Heero Yuy, the great politician, had just been confirmed dead.

"What do you want with me?" the boy was not reassured by the man's calm nature, oblivious to the historical moment his life had aligned itself with.

"Me? What do I want with you?" Striker did turn to look at the kid now, "Look, I hate kids...and pets... and don't even get me started on women. I'm just the bastard who drew the shortest straw, that's all," He went back to his TV. "I'm just supposed to keep an eye on you until the induction."

"Induction?" the kid was still confused. Striker let out a frustrated sigh figuring someone would be recording the report anyways and turned the TV off getting up to face the kid en full.

"Yeah, What? You think Montague is going to let you just leave after putting on that show of yours? Hell no kid, look around you... your in the deluxe business suite reserved for his personal guests and clients," The room was exceptionally ornate, just as the bed had been exceptionally soft and downy, Striker picked up a leather folio from the ebony and glass coffee table, "Come have a look at this kid, You've had your name and seal personally approved by the man himself... Better start thinking where you want the tattoo..."

Inside was a certificate... a contract as yet unsigned... and on the opposite side:

A Blue Snake writhed in agony as a winged Red Dragon burst forth from its split open bowels. In the Dragon's claws clutching at intensely detailed renderings of the reptile's organs, as still more of it's innards were strewn about the dying beast... As the Dragon feasted upon it victorious...

...and beneath the drawing was a single word in flourished cursive... a name, The Name.

His Name...

...Vicious.

Striker snapped the folio closed,

"So, If you wanna hop in the shower, you look like you can use some shampoo. I hope you don't mind, but we took some measurements while you were asleep..." he gestured to the pile of black formal cloths, like his own, neatly folded on the couch.

The shower was a strange experience for... Vicious... who'd never been allowed the luxury of lounging under a hot cascade. The polished surface of the black marble walls were like mirrors surrounding his thin boney body. As the dirt and grime washed away, lightening his hair by several shades, he couldn't help thinking of what was being left behind...

...his mother... His sister, Danielle...

...and most of all...

* * *

><p><strong>...Back to AC 197...<strong>

"Danielle! Danielle! Hurry up will you! Mr. Trieze is here!" **Susan **sprinted up the short flight of stairs to check on her daughter's progress after breakfast. She could only roll her hazel eyes and pull a hand through her honey hair as her daughter attempted to stuff her foot into a sock while standing with her backpack on... and promptly overbalanced into her bed. "Oh Danielle! He's kind enough to be driving you two in today, the least you could do is get ready like I told you too!"

"I did! I TRIED mommy! I just couldn't find my binder forEVER!" The little girl pouted with her light brown hair now a mess, but at least it was easier to get the other sock and her shoes on now that she was on the floor.

"Well I have your lunch here, so make sure you aren't forgetting anything else."

Susan waved to Trieze, Mariemaya, Danielle and their friend Laura, as they pulled away in the HVG... Before letting out a big sigh and getting in her own shabby green sedan to head to the Medical Marketing and Data Filing center she worked at.

It was a normal day, a typical day, the kind of day where she didn't bother to turn her head to look twice when she spotted a skinny middle-aged man with pure white hair out of the corner of her eye...suspiciously hanging out with a group of others in the parking garage in the basement of her office building; even though in years past such a sight would have her strife with wonder and curiosity... a childhood search never satisfied... yet after 20 years the enthusiasm had left the hunt... and as it's been said, her routine went undisturbed.

Until...

...she went into the closet for supplies, her ear buds on playing some opera Trieze had insisted encapsulated the utter epitome of human strife... whatever that meant!...

...and came out to find herself face to face with a masked man pointing a rifle to her chest. Beyond him she could see the rest of her co-workers having black sacks forced over their heads and then individually escorted away from their desks.

The new reams of paper dropped from her hands as her mouth hung open... They were being taken hostage!


	8. Cops And Robbers

Ack, it's been a while, so here's what I got... On my profile it explains what's been going on... Even when I post short bits, I usually try and make sure there's at least some action or development in that bit, so it's not that bad...right?

SPLIT this story into two... HERE is where the Epilogue of By The Roadway leads into...

But YES! BY THE ROADWAY new material WILL BE HAPPENING! The rest of this is CH coming along soon, but eh... sorry I tried... looks like "sectional posting" is just a better way to get things done. Trying to tackle more then one or two scenes at a time is a big stretch with everything else I have going on. If anyone actually has issue with it, do talk to me cuz maybe you can help me figure out a better way...

**Cops And Robbers... Part 1**

* * *

><p>Wait. Hold that thought from the end of last chapter...<p>

...Actually: It's before the robbery at the Medical Center early the spring of AC197... We'll be getting right back to that soon enough after a few details are taken care of...

The proposal had been finished and approved in time. The primary Preventors task force was gathering at the Earth HQ for a debriefing from the Police Investigative Bureau.

Trieze Khushrenada stood at rigid attention behind and to the side of Lady Une's desk as she was signing a stack of forms on her desk. Finishing and tapping the file square on it's edges, she handed it off to him.

"Is there anything else I can get you, my dearest sweet?" he asked bending to give her a quick kiss on her cheek before heading to the door.

"Just make sure those get where they need to be and I'll see you at the briefing... dearest." she gave a disdainful wave to dismiss her 'new' pet, though a smile did creep onto her lips. She really never did give Milliardo the credit he deserved either as a Pilot or a Commander during the war, but knew now she was lucky to have him on her side.

"Oh one other thing my lady..." Trieze stopped nearly out the door, "... Nitro's father was interested in coming down for a visit. Might you be able to see about the flight clearance to the airstrip at our estate?"

"Of course, just have him let me know when he'd like to travel, I'll be sure to notify customs to send out a detail for his arrival..." Une was busy checking her messages online. Trieze coughed, and came back in the office closing the door mostly behind him.

"Oh, Une... that really isn't necessary. He'll be arriving in his own inter-atmospheric shuttle, I don't think we need to go searching his personal property." he ended with one of those disarming chuckles that never worked on her.

"Trieze, I thought we agreed we were going to play by the rules like every one else? You don't want to start getting into scandals with the populace still raw from the war, do you?" Une was giving him a sour, tight lipped, look.

"Scandals? Une your reading a little too much into this, I think. Shiko has had to deal with the Alliance security hassles for a long time, I figured it a thoughtful gesture to ease his travels for once. The airstrip and Castle grounds are both within the Vianden Dukedom after all..."

Une tapped the end of her pen on the desk causing him to trail off at her perturbed aura,

"Yes, and since you're mentioning it... does that mean now would be a good time to discuss the Legislature's concerns about your decline to sign your properties under the ESUN's treaty?"

"The Khushrenada Estate has always been autonomous; Its _tradition_." He gave a blue blooded scoff continuing to blow off the matter.

"Trieze..." Her eyes narrowed as she lined up her words to fire, "You sound like your Uncle."

There was a satisfying hit as the projectiles found their mark and Trieze was left squirming for an escape,

"I...but..." he let out a exasperated sigh, "Fine, Customs agents it is..." Trieze gave a curt bow, and went out the door pausing to stick his head back in the office, "...But only at the gate, they aren't allowed on the property; As you said, I still haven't signed it." Then left to complete his errand shutting the door on her objections.

"Shiko Mudo..." Lady Une said aloud to herself now that she was alone. A frown crossed her features, "...what would make a Lunar Prince want to come down to Earth all the sudden?"

She checked the clock to make sure she still had time before she started searching for some sort of clues... (((Read ch2 of 'A Fan For Shiko' for more clues!)))

* * *

><p>...<em>A little bit extra AC175 you couldn't go without...<em>

_...The Soldier's Apprentice..._

It was his first mission, at face it seemed very easy: Go to Vianden, wait on the streets, snatch a certain purse, bring its contains back.

Vicious never asked why or who or how... those weren't questions worth asking if the answers weren't given; but even when he first spotted the overly dressed target strolling down the dark cobblestone road, with an ornate silver-headed cane swinging along with his stride, he had a feeling (the very same feeling he would get countless times throughout his life) that he'd been set up for more of an adventure then he was told to expect.

As hard as he'd tried to stay hidden, move quietly and stay focused; that didn't stop Vicious ending up on his back with the blade that had been disguised in its cane-like sheath against his soft throat.

"That's a very interesting katana you have their boy... you wouldn't happen to be after this," Sir Godrick Khushrenada swept back one half of his full-length heavy cloak and unhooked the dangling pouch from his waist, it had sparkling gold thread embroidery and flashing gem accents, holding his own blade steady, "...Would you?"

The boy eyes were fixed on the object he'd been sent for as a light rain began to fall.

Tossing the bejeweled purse lightly and watching the boy's eyes track it with predatory intent Godrick smiled,

"Tell me boy... how would you like to learn how to use that blade of yours?"

The eyes behind the white veil of hair flicked briefly to the man's face before gluing back to his goal.

"I can use it just fine."

That made Godrick smile wider,

"So I've Heard," to Vicious' confusion he retracted his blade and re-sheathed it to opened the draw string on the ornate bag to reveal it to be empty, "...But I think you will find that if you truly want to be successful in life, you need to start looking beyond the pretense of the thing... to the real jewel you've been sent to retrieve."

"What is that?" Vicious' young eyes burned as hatefully as ever, ready to spring into action.

"...Your potential, of course..."

The wind whipped some of the strands that had escaped Sir Godrick's neatly tied blue ribbon across his grinning face...

..._a little while later at the Khushrenada Estate..._

Trieze (The 13th) had just sat himself in his chair for dinner; his mother was about to excuse herself to try and find out where her husband had disappeared to when...

That husband saved her the trouble by bursting through the heavy carved doors at one end of the dining room towing a young boy, maybe twice Trieze's age, by his shoulder length white hair along with him,

"Alicia! Darling! You'll never guess what I found!"

Alicia sunk in her seat covering her face in overwhelmed exasperation,

"Dear Lord Godrick, tell me not..." her prayer to the ancestral household spirit went unanswered.

"...An Apprentice!" He'd spanned most of the length of the dining room, and thrust the wincing boy ahead of him for inspection.

"I thought _your son_ was to be your apprentice." Alicia did peak between the gaps in her fingers at the excessively skinny boy that had the quality of a bedraggled cat even with his neatly tailored black slacks and button up shirt with thin black tie – mostly from the way Godrick was insensitively parading him around like a homeless pet.

"Well he'll certainly be my _other_ apprentice in time... but that's just the thing! We can never know if we _will_ have the time! This is just a little extra assurance, besides haven't you been complaining about wanting more children?" Sir Godrick was in one of his impenetrability good moods as he brushed the dust off the boy's shoulders.

"Of my _own_, yes. Look, perhaps since you've dragged the poor thing in here you might as well sit him down and feed him, this is a matter we should have discussed _first _I think_. _Where on earth were you planning on keeping him anyways? Do you even know what his name is?"

"Not a clue!" Godrick practically shoved the kid into the seat directly across from Trieze before going back to his own chair at the head of the table, "I'm sure we can put him up in the central tower, he might even like it." Godrick began to work into his already laid out meal as the servants made up a place setting for the new guest. "...Get him a few tutors, maybe put him to work in the kitchens... it'll be nice."

"You've dragged this boy home with you and not even asked his name? Young Sir," Alicia addressed the mystery boy directly as the kid sniffed at the red wine that had just been poured for him, "Please forgive his Excellency's eccentricity but please if I may know, by what name are you called?"

"Vicious."

The simple answer gave Alicia cause for an even drier, less impressed look to be shot her husband's way.

A young Trieze knitted his brow in puzzlement regarding the first impromptu brother he would come to accept into his family...

* * *

><p>(((I was gonna end last chapter with this section, before that I was gonna start the whole story with it... but I really liked the transition from the shower into Susan's work at the end of last one. Unless I do a whole 175 story, this is all you get of that...EXCEPT maybe there might be somethings, parts of another story, a PARTICULAR story, that might show more of a "younger" Vicious &amp; the Khushrenada's. Anywho.. gonna try and get more up soon..er... basically the briefing that will explain whats been going on with the "Cops" then we get back to the "Robbers".)))<p> 


	9. Cops And Robbers pt 2

**Cops and Robbers... Part 2**

Damn, is it a new month already? Thanks for sticking with me peps even tho I know last month was a little dry of new material.

Anywho, if you thought I forgot Edward... Teehehehehe... Go Team Space Groove! Alas my brain (nor social life) doesn't seem to be cooperating like I wished it would... but why not keep things moving, right?

* * *

><p><em>...Back at Headquarters for the morning briefing...<em>

Trieze closed the door behind him after entering Milliardo's office; they had a little time before the meeting...

"What is this thing you've uncovered?"

"I'm sure Sally would have some arguments about showing it to you, but I've edited the clip down the important part so it shouldn't be too bad." Milliardo clicked closed what he'd been working on and slipped a plain writable CD into the tray.

"I'm sure I'll be able to make due..." Trieze cringed as he leaned over the back of his office chair to watch.

"Did you ask Une about Shiko's landing clearance?" Millard paused.

"Yes, it should get settled soon enough. I don't think she suspected anything."

"Of course, that wouldn't be like her at all..." Milliard shook his head dryly shooting a _'think again'_look over his shoulder at Trieze before opening the disc's file...

((see Epilogue of By The Roadway ch3))

* * *

><p><em>...Else where at Headquarters...<em>

Une was lost to her own swirling thoughts as she headed towards the briefing room and nearly walked over a child whom had skipped out in front of her and stood at ridged attention holding a salute.

"Um, excuse me, exactly where are your parents? This is not a day care." She glanced around to try and spot the owner's of the pint sized, wild orange haired, creature.

"I have no~ooo clue!" The girl, or was it a boy? Beamed up at Lady Une through a thick pair of goggles as 'it' balanced a flat metallic case on its head like a strange hat.

She caught a glimpse of flashing text on the lens' interior and frowned about to sputter out her next question, when an all too familiar (and to Une VERY annoying) voice offered an explanation,

"Ed! There you are!" Nitroglycerin Mudo laughed as he appeared out of no where, seemingly a shared trait among colonists from the L1 cluster as it was some_one_ else's favored entrance as well, "I thought I told you to stick by my side down here!"

"Too boring!" Edward swung the computer case from her head and lifted the goggles up, scrunching her eyes as she gave Nitro a childish display of her unenthused wet tongue. Une now noticed the old Colonial Militia's tech division symbol emblazoned upon the back of the kid's loose white tee shirt.

"Mudo, what is the meaning of this? Last I checked today wasn't show-your-child-the-abysmal-future-that-awaits-them day." Une gave him a tight lipped glare.

"Of course not! But today is the appointed day you said I should make sure to bring the very best the old Militia had to offer in regards to digital prowess! You already have all the Gundam Pilots, this is our last reserve... The Guggenhaltz job? The Ukraine server collapse? Countless terabytes of classified data stolen...?" He gave a presenting gesture to the young child prodigy.

"This..." she looked to the child and back to the grinning ex-militia leader who was now the head of the Preventors Space division, "...I don't know if this can be allowed. I'm sure it would be a violation of countless labor laws and ordinances for us to put someone _this young_ to work for us!"

"Well... that pooch is already screwed." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Lady Une threw her hands up in frustration as she blew past the two,

"Ugh! Just keep that thing behaved during the meeting!"

"No love for Ed; Oo-la-la..." Ed bent completely over backwards watching Une go, then raise herself up to stand on her hands.

"Eh, don't worry about the Lady. Trieze is always putting her in bad moods like that." He looked down at Ed, as Ed looked down at him from her relative position. "Ready to see the rest?"

"YAYAYAYAYAYAY~YAY!" Ed sprung a flip and took off down the hall with her rectangular hat and thick goggles in place once more; arms out wide like an airplane.

Nitro just laughed following after the kid, he loved jamming with Edward.

* * *

><p><strong><em>...Morning of 'the job'...Granny Spiegel's house...<em>**

"SP-IKE! Oh, Spike! Your _best friend _is here!"

There was the clattering clang of a three set of cow bells over Spike's door as his Grandmother yanked on the cord that ran along the wall from his tiny bedroom, down the far too steep and narrow staircase that matched the too cramped and narrow theme of the rickety two floor apartment, to where the elderly woman was calling up to him from the living room.

That living room, was barely able fit an arm chair and coffee table in one corner by the window – the 3 ft flat screen TV mounted on the opposite wall with feeding cable attachments was an out of place addition with its impervious to dust shine amidst the ancient disarray.

In his room: Spike pulled the pillow out from under his head to use it to cushion his ears from the painful racket, letting out a long groan as he peered at his bedside clock. His 'friend' always had to ruin the _best _of his dreams. With great effort Spike reached as far as he could to snag hold of the pack of cigarettes off the nightstand to start his waking ritual.

Down stairs, satisfied with her work, Granny Spiegel hobbled her way back into the kitchen,

"Oh, Vee honey!" she gave a delighted exclamation finding Vicious pouring batter into the heated waffle-maker, "You don't have to go making an old lady breakfast!" (she knew he rarely made himself anything to eat.)

"I brought strawberries over too." He closed the iron and pulled the plastic catch container from the paper bag he'd taken in with him, "Do you want me to take all the crowns off?"

"You are too much, Sweetheart!" The old woman laughed warmly taking a seat at the small, round, cluttered table, "I still say your committing a terrible crime being a bachelor like you are! Down right robbing some nice lady out there of a whole kit-n-kibudel of treasure!"

Vicious' expression twisted into a wincing snarl of a grimace, which was actually a flush-less blush, as he set about prepping the juicy fruits,

"You should keep the News off today; I don't want you to worry yourself too much."

"Vee, I hope your not getting my little Spike in trouble..." the elderly woman tisked.

"Yeah really! I doubt her little Spike needs to be rolling around in any pig pens or diving under the dirt today..." Spike had just come down from upstairs, fully dressed, and let out a huge yawning stretch, "...Aw Vic, really? For me?" he gave a big lopsided grin spotting the waffles cooking.

It was returned with a sharp glare,

"Set your granny's table and get out in the van. Don't make us late. Weren't you going to clean this place? If your going to be this lazy for the next few years? You would be more useful in lock down tagging guards getting Snake pay." Vicious growled.

"Hey, hey... Okay... I was kidding..." He waved his hands to try and ease the chastising tirade, his voice still raw with the early hour, "...You could have at least made coffee." Obediently he set the kitchen table for his granny as Vicious finished his own preparations, then took the time to start cleaning the rest of the disarray in his grandmother's little kitchen before they headed out the door bidding the old lady farewell...


End file.
